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HARVARD  UNIVERSITY 
CAMBRIDGE,  MASS.,  U.S.A. 


HARVARD  ECONOMIC  STUDIES 

i 

PUBLISHED    UNDER  THE    DIRECTION    OF 
THE  DEPARTMENT  OF  ECONOMICS 

VOL.  II 


OUTLINE  MAP  OF  BOSTON 

OMITTING  SUBURBAN  DISTRICTS 


THE 

LODGING  HOUSE  PROBLEM 
IN  BOSTON 


BY 


ALBERT  BENEDICT  WOLFE,  PH.D. 

ASSOCIATE  PROFESSOR  OF  ECONOMICS  AND  SOCIOLOGY  IN  OBERIJN 

COLLEGE   AND   SOMETIME  HOLDER   OF   THE   SOUTH   END 

HOUSE  FELLOWSHIP  IN  HARVARD  UNIVERSITY 


PUBLISHED  FROM  THE  INCOME  OF  THE 
WILLIAM    H.   BALDWIN   JR.   1885    FUND 


CAMBRIDGE 
HARVARD  UNIVERSITY  PRESS 

LONDON:  HUMPHREY  MILFORD 
OXFORD  UNIVERSITY  PRESS 

1913 


COPYRIGHT,  igo6 
BY  THE  PRESIDENT  AND  FELLOWS  OF  HARVARD  COLLEGE 


.r^  LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CAIJFORNF, 
SANTA  »•:«-• 


PREFACE 

THE  material  for  this  monograph  was  collected  during  a  resi- 
dence of  two  years  as  Harvard  Fellow  at  the  South  End  House, 
Boston,  1902-04.  The  writer  wishes  to  acknowledge  his  indebted- 
ness to  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Robert  A.  Woods  and  to  Mr.  William  M. 
Prest  of  the  South  End  House,  to  Prof.  J.  Rose  Colby  of  Normal, 
111.,  to  Prof.  W.  Z.  Ripley  of  Harvard,  and  especially  to  Prof.  T.  N. 
Carver,  editor  of  this  series,  for  reading  the  manuscript  and  offer- 
ing valuable  criticism.  For  whatever  errors  there  may  be,  and  for 
shortcomings  in  the  results  obtained,  the  writer  and  the  extremely 
difficult  conditions  of  investigation  must  alone  be  held  responsible. 
If  he  has  blazed  a  way  into  a  problem  which  others  will  attack, 
in  Boston  and  elsewhere,  with  resources  more  nearly  in  proportion 
to  the  task  before  them,  he  will  deem  his  labor  well  spent. 

OBERLIN,  November  12,  1906. 


CONTENTS 

I.  Introduction i 

II.  The  historical  evolution  of  the  South  End  lodging-house  section      .     .  1 1 

III  The  lodging-house  districts  of  Boston 20 

IV.  The  economic  structure  of  the  South  End  lodging-house  district      .     .  27 

V.  The  house  itself 34 

VI.  The  change  from  boarding  to  lodging 38 

VII.  The  lodging-house  keeper  and  her  problem 52 

VIII.  Trading  in  furniture  and  good-will 67 

IX.  The  real-estate  situation  in  the  lodging-house  district     ...          .     .  72 

X.  The  lodger:  general  characteristics  of  the  lodging-house  population     .  81 

XI.  The  lodger:  occupation 86 

XII.  The  lodger:   economic  condition 97 

XIII.  The  lodger:   his  life  and  social  condition 109 

XIV.  Vital  statistics 115 

Sec.  I.  Statistical  data 115 

Sec.  II.  Density  of  population 117 

Sec.  III.   Influence  of  the  lodging-house  on  distribution  of  population 

by  sex 122 

Sec.  IV.  Influence  of  the  lodging-house  on  the  age-grouping  of  population  125 
Sec.  V.  Birth-  and  death-rates  in  the  lodging-house  district    .     .     .     .127 

XV.  Crime  and  prostitution 134 

XVI.  The  problem  of  marriage       150 

XVII.  Summary  and  conclusion ....  167 

APPENDICES 

A.  Books  and  pamphlets  bearing  on  the  lodging-house  question      .     .185 

B.  Movements  of  populations  from  the  country  to  the  city      ....  188 

C.  Student-quarters  in  Boston 191 


LIST  OF  CHARTS 

Outline  Map  of  Boston Frontispiece 

I.    Change  from  private  residences  to  lodging-houses,  Union  Park,  Bos- 
ton, 1868-1902 14 

II.    Map  showing  the  general  situation  of  the  South  End  lodging-house 

district  with  respect  to  the  rest  of  the  city 22 

III.  Map  showing  the  situation,  boundaries,  and  types  of  buildings  and 

institutions  in  the  South  End  lodging-house  district        ....       24 

IV.  Map  showing  the  economic  structure  of  the  South  End  lodging-house 

district 28 

V.    Plan  of  first  and  second  floors  of  the  typical  lodging-house     ...       34 
VI.    Percentage  of  lodging-house  landladies  who  have  husbands  or  other 
male  relatives  of  the  same  name  in  the  house  —  geographical  dis- 
tribution by  precincts 54 

VII.    Fall  of  real-estate  values,  Union  Park,  1868-1902 76 

VIII.    Geographical  distribution  by  precincts  of  adult  male  lodgers  engaged 

in  professional  service 88 

IX.    Idem,  domestic  and  personal  service 88 

X.    Idem,  manufacturing  and  mechanical  pursuits 92 

XI.    Idem,  trade  and  transportation       92 

XII.    Density  of  population  of  Boston,  1900  (based  on  statistics  by  pre- 
cincts)       118 

XIII.  Density  of  population  of  male  adult  lodgers,  1902,  South  End  lodging- 

house  district 120 

XIV.  Distribution  of  population  by  sex,  by  wards,  Boston,  1900     .     .     .     124 
XV.    Birth-rates  by  wards,  Boston,  1901 128 

XVI.    Comparison  of  birth-rates  and  death-rates,  by  wards,  1901     .     .     .     132 

XVII.    Geographical  distribution  of  students,  Boston 190 

XVIII.    The  new  student-quarter  in  Boston 192 


THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM 
IN  BOSTON 

CHAPTER   I 

INTRODUCTION 

IN  this  study  the  term  lodging-house  is  used  both  in  a  general  and 
in  specific  senses.  Genetically  it  means  any  sort  of  habitation,  hotels 
excepted,  where  a  person  can  obtain  lodging,  whether  for  a  night, 
a  week,  or  a  month.  Specifically  it  has  two  different  applications: 
first  to  the  cheap  lodging-house  of  the  Bowery  type,  secondly  to  a 
class  of  dwellings  often  known  in  other  cities  as  rooming-houses  or 
furnished-room  houses.  This  investigation  deals  with  the  room- 
ing-house only,  and  with  the  mercantile  employees  and  skilled 
mechanics  whom  it  shelters.  The  distinction  between  the  cheap, 
transient  lodging-house  and  the  rooming-house  lies  in  the  class  of 
patrons,  in  prices  charged,  and  in  method  of  payment.  The  lodgers 
in  a  rooming-house  pay  by  the  week  or  month,  those  in  a  cheap 
lodging-house  by  the  night.  The  "roomers"  pay  from  one  to  seven 
dollars  a  week,  and  are  both  men  and  women;  the  patron  of  the 
cheap  lodging-house  pays  from  five  to  twenty-five  cents  a  night, 
and  is  generally  a  man,  although  there  are  in  the  larger  cities  cheap 
lodging-houses  for  women  also.  The  rooming-house  may  receive 
transients,  but  generally  at  a  rate  not  below  fifty  cents,  and  often  as 
high  as  one  dollar  a  night.  Inasmuch  as  this  investigation  deals 
almost  exclusively  with  Boston,  and  as  the  term  rooming-house  is 
rarely  or  never  heard  there,  it  seems  best  to  use  the  term  lodging- 
house  in  these  pages  rather  than  the  more  specific  terms  rooming- 
house  or  furnished-room  house.  It  should  be  understood  at  once, 
then,  that  the  term  lodging-house  as  used  here,  unless  indicated 
otherwise,  covers  the  class  of  dwellings  in  which  live  the  great  mid- 
dle class  of  clerks,  salesmen,  skilled  mechanics,  and  miscellaneous 
industrial  workers,  who  for  the  most  part  are  unmarried  and  with- 
out other  abiding-place  in  the  city  —  dwellings  where  men  and 


2  THE   LODGING-HOUSE   PROBLEM   IN   BOSTON 

women  are  lodged  upon  payment  of  a  sum  of  money  weekly  or 
monthly.1 

The  lodging-house  of  any  sort  has  claimed  comparatively  little 
attention  in  the  literature  of  the  housing  question,  and  the  room- 
ing-house specifically  has  fared  still  worse.  The  only  definition  we 
have  been  able  to  find,  outside  the  dictionaries,  is  the  following: 
"A  lodging-house  shall  be  taken  to  mean  and  include  any  house 
or  building  or  portion  thereof  in  which  persons  are  harbored,  or 
received,  or  lodged  for  hire,  for  a  single  night  or  for  less  than  a  week 
at  one  time,  or  any  part  of  which  is  let  for  any  person  to  sleep  in 
for  any  term  less  than  a  week." 2  This  is  the  definition  given  in  the 
original  New  York  tenement-house  law  of  1867  (chap.  908,  sec. 
17),  and  it  has  been  continued  through  all  the  subsequent  acts  with- 
out change.  It  excludes  the  rooming-house,  where  the  ordinary 
rental  period  is  a  week  or  a  month,  but  which  is  commonly  called 
a  lodging-house,  and  in  some  cities  is  never  called  anything  else. 
A  definition  so  at  variance  with  common  usage  is  obviously  defect- 
ive, and  may  be  positively  misleading. 

The  cheap  dormitories  furnishing  a  bed  at  from  five  to  twenty-five 
cents  a  night,  which  fall  under  the  Tenement-House  Act  definition, 
have  given  the  health  officials  and  other  authorities  in  American 
and  European  cities  much  trouble,  and  it  is  perhaps  not  unnat- 
ural that  the  official  use  of  the  term  should  differ  from  the  broader 
popular  use.  European  cities  have  long  had  large  municipal  lodg- 
ing-houses for  the  shelter  of  transients  who  at  the  time  can  afford 
nothing  more,  and  even  of  whole  families  in  need  over  consider- 
able periods  of  time.  Municipal  lodging-houses  for  dealing  with 
the  vagrant  problem  have  also  had  some  significance  in  this  coun- 
try, notably  in  New  York  and  in  Chicago.3  In  England  most,  if 
not  all,  of  the  municipal  lodging-houses  are  merely  publicly  owned 
"common  lodging-houses,"  a  type  which  perhaps  corresponds  most 

1  The  common  term  in  Philadelphia  is  furnished-room  house;  in  New  York,  Chi- 
cago, Cleveland,  and  St.  Louis,  rooming-house. 

2  De  Forest  and  Veiller,  The  Tenement  House  Problem,  vol.  ii,  p.  331.    See  also 
E.  R.  L.  Gould,  Housing  of  the  Working  People,  Eighth  Special  Report  of  the  U.  S. 
Commissioner  of  Labor,  1895,  p.  27. 

1  Municipal  lodging-houses  now  exist  in  New  York,  Philadelphia,  Boston,  St. 
Louis,  Washington,  New  Haven,  Syracuse,  and  Chicago.  —  Zueblin,  American 
Municipal  Progress,  p.  102. 


INTRODUCTION  3 

nearly  to  the  cheap  lodging-houses  covered  by  the  New  York  Tene- 
ment Law  definition.  In  Great  Britain,  and  on  the  Continent  as  well, 
common  lodging-houses  are  of  considerable  importance  in  the  hous- 
ing question.1 

In  England,  also,  some  large  employers  maintain  lodging-  or 
boarding-houses  where  their  employees  are  compelled  to  live  —  a 
practice  known  as  "living-in."  At  least  such  was  the  case  in  the 
north  of  England  a  decade  ago.2  We  may  be  thankful  that  this  is 

1  Of  Great  Britain  we  are  told:    "A  very  large  section  of  the  community  knows 
no  other  home  than  that  afforded  by  the  common  lodging-houses  of  our  large  towns 
and  cities.    This  section  includes  a  very  considerable  proportion  of  single  men  and 
women,  who,  either  on  account  of  the  precarious  nature  of  their  work  or  the  desire 
for  the  society  which  such  a  lodging-house  provides,  make  no  provision  of  a  more 
permanent  nature.   As  the  places  of  work  and  the  wages  earned  vary  from  time  to 
time,  so  the  situation  and  the  character  of  their  lodging  change.    Moreover,  a  very 
large  proportion  are  '  tramps,'  whose  course  is  from  one  centre  to  another,  and  whose 
hotel  is  the  common  lodging-house,  or  very  often  the  workhouse  ward  or  tramp  cell. 
Of  the  married  people  with  families,  who  use  the  accommodation  of  the  '  padden 
ken,'  by  far  the  greater  proportion  belong  to  the  tramp  class."  These  houses  are  sub- 
ject to  inspection  and  license.    The  Public  Health  Act  regulates  them  and  provides 
"that  no  house  shall  be  registered  as  a  common  lodging-house  until  it  has  been  in- 
spected and  improved  for  the  purpose  by  some  officer  of  the  Local  Authority."  — 
Bowmaker,  The  Housing  oj  the  Working  Classes,  pp.  102,  103  (London,  1895).  See 
also  W.  S.  McNeill,  Die  Aujgaben  der  Siadtgemeinden  in  der  Wohnungsfrage,  Berlin, 
1902,  p.  24;  and  Fabian  Essays  in  Socialism,  pp.  49,  52. 

2  See  Dilke,  Bulley,  and  Whitley,  Women's  Work,  London,    1894,  pp.  58,  59. 
"  Another  matter  with  regard  to  which  discontent  is  rapidly  spreading  is  the  system 
of  compulsory  '  living-in '  which  prevails  widely  in  drapery  and  large  outfitting  estab- 
lishments. ...  A  drapery  firm  in  the  North  of  England,  for  example,  employs  300 
assistants  of  both  sexes,  and  all  are  obliged  to  live  in  the  house  provided  by  the  em- 
ployer. In  shops  where  '  living-in '  is  compulsory,  board  and  lodging  is  usually  valued 
at  £40  per  annum.    It  is  a  common  complaint,  however,  among  assistants  that  if 
after  some  years'  service  they  obtain  the  privilege  of  living  'out'  they  only  receive  an 
allowance  of  £15  to  £20  per  annum.  .  .  .  For  the  sum  charged  by  the  employer  the 
inmates  of  a  large  house  ought  to  be  comfortably  fed  and  housed;  but  though  in  some 
cases  the  arrangements  are  all  that  could  be  desired,  yet  against  the  majority  grave 
accusations  are  made  with  regard  to  overcrowding,  bad  food,  and  uncomfortable 
household  arrangements.    The  bedroom  accommodation  is  said  to  be  insufficient, 
and  the  furniture  scanty;  the  food  provided  is  often  poor,  and  sometimes  uneatable. 
Sundry  small  filchings  in  the  shape  of  blacking  boots,  use  of  piano  and  library,  are 
also  strongly  resented.  There  is  seldom  any  provision  for  social  life,  perhaps  because 
there  would  be  no  time  to  enjoy  it.  Usually  the  two  sexes  are  lodged  apart,  but  some 
boarding-houses  are  apparently  mixed,  for  in  one  set  of  house-rules  it  is  stated  that 
talking  in  the  dining-room  during  meals  is  'strictly  prohibited,'  that  young  men  are 


4  THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

one  type  of  lodging  we  have  escaped  in  this  country.  While  it  is 
possible  to  define  the  lodging-  or  rooming-house  in  a  specific  sense,  it 
is  impossible  to  find  a  good  definition  that  will  be  descriptive  of  all 
the  forms  of  habitations  or  institutions  to  which  the  term  lodging- 
house  is  applied,  even  in  the  United  States.  The  various  varieties 
of  lodging-house  merge  into  one  another  so  gradually  that  no  hard 
and  sharp  line  of  demarkation  can  be  drawn.  At  one  extreme  are 
the  cheap,  transient  houses  for  men,  already  mentioned,  often  dens 
of  "yeggmen"  and  other  criminals;  and  at  the  other  the  comfort- 
able, highly  respectable,  and  oftentimes  luxurious  bachelor  apart- 
ments which  are  to  be  found  in  every  large  city.  Between  these 
extremes  is  the  rooming-house  or  (as  called  in  Boston)  the  lodging- 
house,  which  in  the  United  States  has  become  a  great  distinct  type 
in  itself.  While  there  may  be  difficulty  in  classifying  certain  houses, 
the  lodging-house  of  this  study  is  a  fairly  distinct  type,  and  the  most 
important  one  in  numbers  and  in  social  and  economic  influence. 
The  problem  of  the  middle-class  lodger  or  roomer,  however,  is 
wider  than  the  realm  of  the  out  and  out  lodging-  or  rooming-house. 
Many  persons  living  in  apartments  let  certain  rooms  to  cut  down 
expenses.  The  same  is  true  of  many  tenement  families,  but  here 
of  course  we  merge  into  another  problem,  that  of  the  tenement- 
lodger  evil,  which  in  cities  of  compact  tenement  districts  like  New 
York  and  Boston,  is  one  of  the  serious  sides  of  the  whole  tenement- 
house  problem.  This  is  true  also  in  England  and  on  the  Continent, 
especially  in  Germany,  as  is  attested  by  the  attention  given  the  evil 

not  permitted  to  enter  the  young  ladies'  sitting-room,  and  visitors  are  not  allowed  in 
the  house.  At  most  establishments  only  twenty  minutes  or  half  an  hour  is  allowed 
for  dinner,  and  the  assistants  are  liable  to  be  called  off  if  required  in  the  shop.  .  .  . 
"When  Sunday  comes  round  a  diametrically  opposite  policy  is  followed,  and  after 
being  kept  in  close  confinement  during  six  days  of  the  week  the  unhappy  assistant 
finds  himself  or  herself  put  outside  the  door  on  the  seventh.  Either  the  boarders  are 
given  to  understand  that  their  presence  is  not  desired  within  doors,  or  else  no  meals 
are  provided,  and  the  assistants  are  left  to  shift  for  themselves  as  best  they  may.  No 
doubt  the  best -conducted  houses  are  careful  of  their  assistants'  comfort  on  Sundays. 
Extreme  cases  in  which  the  assistants  are  absolutely  shut  out  are  probably  rare;  but 
some  are  known  to  exist,  and  the  tendency  to  make  Sunday  an  uncomfortable  day 
for  those  who  remain  indoors  appears  to  be  pretty  general.  The  disastrous  conse- 
quences of  throwing  female  assistants — often  mere  girls  —  upon  their  own  resources 
upon  the  day  of  the  week  when  respectable  means  of  shelter  and  refreshment  are 
least  accessible  can  easily  be  imagined." 


INTRODUCTION  5 

in  German  housing- question  literature.  In  Boston,  this  particular 
evil,  while  not  so  great,  is  still  serious.  "Frequently  lodgers  are 
crowded  into  tenement- rooms  of  scant  dimensions.  Small  rooms 
with  no  outside  windows  and  even  parts  of  rooms  are  let  for  lodgers, 
and  in  this  way  a  single  man  can  get  sleeping  accommodations  for 
fifty  cents  a  week."  1  The  lodger  evil  of  the  tenements,  a  part  of 
the  tenement-house  problem,  will  not  be  touched  upon  by  us.  But 
lodgers  in  apartment  suites  and  in  private  families  where  only  a  room 
or  two  is  rented  are  to  be  found  in  considerable  numbers  and  should 
be  taken  account  of  in  a  full  consideration  of  the  lodging-house 
problem. 

The  lodging-house  must  be  distinguished  once  for  all  from  the 
boarding-house.  The  lodging-house  never  gives  board.  The  lodger 
is  not  a  boarder.  The  boarder  eats  and  sleeps  in  the  same  place. 
The  lodger  or  "roomer"  sleeps  in  one  place  and  "takes  his  meals 
out."2  The  lodging-house  must  also  be  distinguished  from  the 
apartment-house  on  the  one  hand,  and  from  the  tenement  on  the 
other.  Both  the  apartment  and  the  tenement  are  family  houses, 
their  rooms  are  rented  in  suites  and  are  fitted  for  housekeeping; 
but  the  lodging-house  is  cut  up  into  separate  rooms  to  be  rented  to 
single  men  and  women  or  to  childless  married  couples  of  limited 
means,  who  are  willing  to  undergo  the  inconveniences  of  life  in  one 
room  and  meals  at  a  corner  "cafe."  3 

Neither  the  apartment  dweller  nor  the  lodger  (or  roomer)  has 
been  the  subject  of  much  study.  The  voluminous  English,  Con- 
tinental, and  American  literature  on  the  housing  question  deals 
almost  exclusively  with  the  tenement  and  the  tenement  classes.  The 
great  army  of  mercantile  employees  and  skilled  mechanics  —  the 

1  Bushee,  Ethnic  Factors  in  the  Population  of  Boston,  p.  34.    See  also  The  City 
Wilderness,  pp.  34,  35. 

2  In  England  lodgers  have  meals  served  in  their  rooms,  but  the  strenuous  life  of 
the  American  does  not  permit  of  such  indulgence. 

3  While  the  point  does  not  strictly  concern  us  here  it  may  be  of  interest  to  remark 
upon  the  difference  between  the  tenement-house  and  the  apartment -house.    While 
the  distinction  is  a  broad  one  it  is  one  of  degree  rather  than  of  kind,  and  it  is  often 
difficult,  sometimes  impossible,  to  draw  a  sharp  line  between  the  two.  The  difference 
is  usually  fixed  more  or  less  arbitrarily,  according  to  the  number  of  rooms  in  a  suite, 
the  rental  rate,  sanitary  equipment,  and  the  like.    In  practice  the  distinction  very 
often  turns  on  the  presence  or  absence  of  a  bathroom  for  each  suite. 


6  THE  LODGING-HOUSE   PROBLEM   IN   BOSTON 

clerks,  salesmen,  bookkeepers,  stenographers,  dressmakers,  mil- 
liners, barbers,  restaurant-keepers,  policemen,  nurses,  and  the  un- 
married journeymen  carpenters,  painters,  machinists,  electricians, 
etc.,  are  commonly  supposed  to  live  in  wholesome  surroundings. 
As  a  matter  of  fact  little  is  really  known  of  the  life  of  the  ''unat- 
tached "  men  and  women,  and  still  less  has  been  put  in  published 
form.  Something  has  been  written  concerning  the  shop-girl,  but 
generally  to  the  effect  that  she  lives  at  home,  receives  "subsidiary 
wages"  or  "pin-money"  for  her  work,  and  thus  renders  the  lot  of 
the  girl  who  has  to  earn  all  her  own  living  very  hard.  Then  the 
latter  girl  is  forgotten,  and  it  is  thoughtlessly  supposed  that  because 
the  mercantile  employee  dresses  presentably,  and  the  skilled  me- 
chanic gets  high  day-  or  piece-wages,  the  conditions  in  which  they 
live  when  not  at  work  are  presumably  not  bad.  A  few  persons 
have  long  known  that  the  lodging-house  and  the  life  of  the  lodg- 
ing-house population,  in  Boston  at  least,  constitute  a  grave  and 
far-reaching  social  problem.  But  the  exact  nature  of  that  problem, 
its  extreme  complexity,  and  its  numerous  ramifications  have  not 
been  precisely  clear,  nor  have  data  been  at  hand  upon  which  to 
judge  what  solution,  if  any,  can  be  found. 

The  lodging-house  population  is  an  appreciable  part  of  the  total 
city  population.  The  "boarders  and  lodgers"  of  Boston  ten  years 
ago  numbered  over  54,000, l  and  the  number  now  must  be  between 
70,000  and  80,000.  This  includes  boarders  and  lodgers  of  all  classes 
anywhere  within  the  corporation  limits  of  Boston.  The  popula- 
tion of  the  thirteen  precincts  covering  the  South  End  lodging-house 
district  —  the  one  in  which  this  investigation  is  centred  —  is  shown 
in  the  following  table: 

TABLE  i.    POPULATION  OF  THE  SOUTH  END  LODGING-HOUSE  DIS- 
TRICT, BY  PRECINCTS,  IQOO  AND  1905 

1900 2  1905* 

Ward    9    Precinct  5  3,073  2,951 

Ward    9    Precinct  6  2,849  2*894 

Ward  10    Precinct  3  2,161  1,773 

1  Massachusetts  State  Census,  1895,  vol.  ii,  p.  554. 

2  315*  Annual  Report  Mass.  Bureau  of  Statistics  of  Labor,  1900,  pp.  58,  59. 

8  Population  and  Legal  Voters,  Census  of  Mass.,  1905,  —  pamphlet  issued  by  the 
Bureau  of  Labor,  pp.  9—11. 


INTRODUCTION  7 

Ward  10  Precinct  4  2,129  2,028 

Ward  10  Precinct  5  1,688  1,342 

Ward  10  Precinct  6  2,065  I>947 

Ward  12  Precinct  i  3,633  2,953 

Ward  12  Precinct  2  3,024  2,468 

Ward  12  Precinct  3  2,276  2,640 

Ward  12  Precinct  4  3,4°5  2,610 

Ward  12  Precinct  5  2,779  2>97* 

Ward  12  Precinct  6  4,910  4,453 

Ward  12  Precinct  7  3,614  3,643 

Total        37,606      34,673 l 

Just  how  many  of  these  people  live  in  lodging-houses  it  is  impos- 
sible to  state,  since  there  are  a  number  of  short  tenement-house 
streets  and  a  few  apartment-houses  and  private  residences  in  the 
district.  On  the  whole  it  is  probable  that  the  lodging-house  popu- 
lation of  these  thirteen  precincts  by  itself  would  aggregate  between 
25,000  and  30,000;  but  this  must  be  taken  only  as  a  rough  estimate. 
It  is  evident  that  a  district  of  so  large  a  population,  and  one  the 
inner  life  of  which  is  so  little  known,  is  worthy  of  study.  Further- 
more, while  this  study  will  apply  specifically  to  the  lodging-house 
district  of  the  South  End  of  Boston,  the  conditions  found  must  be 
taken  in  the  main  as  typical  of  conditions  existing  or  rapidly  com- 
ing into  existence  in  nearly  every  large  city. 

The  extent  of  the  lodging-house  population,  as  well  as  the  dan- 
gers to  which  it  is  subject,  is  undoubtedly  closely  connected  with 

1  The  decline  of  nearly  3000  (7-8%)  in  the  population  of  these  thirteen  precincts 
in  five  years  comes  as  a  surprise.  The  Bureau  of  Labor,  in  a  personal  communica- 
tion, attributes  it  "to  the  fact  that  these  wards  [wards  9,  10,  and  12]  are  becoming 
more  and  more  devoted  to  business  purposes,  and  residences  are  being  demolished 
or  transformed  into  business  offices."  It  is  true  that  the  first  stories  of  houses  on  the 
lower  part  of  Columbus  Avenue  (below  Massachusetts  Avenue)  are  being  remodeled 
into  stores  in  considerable  numbers,  and  that  a  similar  though  much  less  noticeable 
movement  is  in  progress  on  Tremont  Street  (between  Dover  Street  and  Massachu- 
setts Avenue)  —  a  movement  similar  to  that  which  is  transforming  Boylston  Street 
and  Huntington  Avenue,  and  which  will  undoubtedly  attack  other  Back  Bay  streets, 
but  as  yet  it  scarcely  seems  that  this  can  be  sufficient  cause  for  the  noticeable  decline 
in  population.  The  fact  that  one  census  is  Federal,  the  other  State,  probably  must 
be  taken  into  account.  And  it  may  be,  also,  that  a  greater  number  of  persons  who 
have  to  board  or  lodge  are  finding  accommodations  in  suburban  districts  than  was 
the  case  five  or  six  years  ago.  Boston's  constantly  improving  transit  service  would 
help  toward  this  end;  and  if  such  a  movement  is  going  on,  however  slowly,  it  is 
a  hopeful  sign. 


8  THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

the  trend  of  population  from  the  country  and  smaller  towns  to  the 
metropolitan  centres.  The  mobility  of  our  American  population, 
and  this  tendency  to  flock  to  the  cities,  are  well- recognized  phenom- 
ena.1 

The  strength  of  this  great  movement  is  apparent  when  we  re- 
member that  there  has  been  an  increase  since  1890  in  urban  popu- 
lation, for  the  country  as  a  whole,  of  very  nearly  37  per  cent,  as  com- 
pared with  an  increase  in  total  population  during  the  same  period 
(ten  yea^s)  of  not  quite  21  per  cent.2  The  large  number  of  new- 
comers in  Boston  at  any  given  time  is  indicated  by  the  fact  that  in 
1895  tnere  were  on  May  i,  10,861  persons  ten  years  of  age  and 
over  who  had  lived  in  Boston  only  six  months  or  less.  About  half 
of  this  number  were  foreigners,  the  rest  were  native-born  Ameri- 
cans.3 The  State  Census  shows  that  the  recruits  to  city  life  are 
chiefly  over  twenty  years  old,  and  that  the  number  of  native-born 
migrants  is  far  in  excess  of  the  foreign-born.  In  Appendix  B  will  be 
found  an  analysis  of  the  nativity  of  the  population  of  Boston  for 
the  years  1885,  1895,  and  1900.  The  large  percentage  of  the  popu- 
lation of  great  cities  not  native  to  the  city  named  is  shown  in  the 
following  table: 

TABLE  2.  NATIVITY  OF  POPULATION  OF  THE  FIVE  LARGEST  CITIES* 


Born  in 

the  U.  S. 

Total 

Born  in 

but  not 

For- 

born 

city 

in  city 

eign- 

outside 

named. 

named. 

born 

of  city. 

55-0% 

8-0% 

37-o% 

45-0% 

45-3 

20.1% 

34-6% 

54-7% 

65-3% 

H-9% 

22.8% 

34-7% 

55-8% 

24-8% 

19-4% 

44-2% 

5°-9% 

14.0% 

35-i% 

49-1% 

New  York 
Chicago 
Philadelphia 
St.  Louis 
Boston 

1  See,  for  example,  the  Twelfth  U.  S.  Census,  Population,  part  i,  pp.  Ixxxi-xc. 
Cf.  also,  Webber,  Growth  of  Cities ;  Ross,  Foundations  of  Sociology,  pp.  331-333  and 
passim ;  and  for  German  theory  and  conditions,  Hansen,  Die  Drei  Bevolkerrungs- 
stufen,  1889,  Ammon,  Die  naturliche  Auslese  beim  Menschen,  1893,  Die  Gesellschafts- 
ordnung  und  ihre  natiirlichen  Grundlagen,  1895,  and  Kuczynski,  Der  Zug  nach  der 
Stadt,  1897. 

2  Twelfth  U.  S.  Census,  Pop.,  part  i,  p.  Ixxxvii. 

8  Massachusetts  State  Census,  1895,  vol.  ii,  pp.  790,  791. 

4  Compiled  from  the  Twelfth  U.  S.  Census,  Pop.,  part  i,  pp.  clxvii-clxix. 


INTRODUCTION  9 

Nearly  one  half  the  present  population  of  Boston,  it  appears,  was 
born  outside  the  city.  It  is  impossible  to  say  what  proportion  of 
these  new-comers  find  their  way  to  boarding-  or  lodging-houses,  but 
the  lodging-house  class  is  recruited  chiefly  from  them,  and  the  more 
pronounced  the  movement  from  country  to  city,  the  larger  will  be 
the  lodging  class,  and  the  more  pressing  the  lodging-house  problem. 

The  very  fact,  however,  that  the  movement  from  country  to  city 
has  seemed  so  commonplace  and  natural  has  been  well  calculated 
to  leave  us  with  little  appreciation  of  its  significance  until  the  stat- 
isticians put  it  before  us  in  precise  figures.  Even  then  the  corollary 
—  that  in  the  lives  of  a  very  large  part  of  these  young  people  who 
are  drifting  cityward  the  lodging-house,  for  a  long  time  at  least, 
supplants  the  home  —  has  escaped  recognition  at  anything  like 
its  full  importance.  But  it  is  not  alone  the  young  men  and  women 
who  come  to  the  cities  for  the  first  time  to  work  who  help  fill  the 
lodging-houses.  Both  one  of  the  causes  and  one  of  the  results  of  the 
wonderful  economic  efficiency  of  modern  industrial  organization 
lies  in  the  large  number  of  skilled  mechanics  who  are  ever  ready 
to  be  up  and  moving  to  some  other  place  on  short  notice,  —  liter- 
ally "journeymen"  with  no  fixed  place  of  abode,  no  strong  family 
ties,  little  effective  social  instinct.  So  strong  is  this  tendency  that 
some  trade-unions,  notably  the  cigar-makers,  have  revived  the  old 
custom  of  providing  an  insurance  fund  for  men  out  of  work  and 
traveling  from  one  place  to  another  ("going  on  tramp,"  as  it  used 
to  be  called)  in  search  of  employment.  The  skilled  mechanic,  in 
many  trades,  is  likely  to  be  sent  almost  anywhere.  Especially  is 
this  true  in  building-trades,  transportation,  and  certain  kinds  of 
domestic  and  personal  service.  Modern  industry  demands  large 
sacrifices  of  home  and  comfort  on  the  part  of  its  servants. 

The  movement  toward  the  cities  has  been  regarded  as  mainly 
economic  in  its  motive.1  It  will  not  do,  however,  to  throw  too  ex- 
clusive an  emphasis  upon  purely  economic  forces.  "  Opportunity," 
which  every  city  seems  to  spell  in  capital  letters,  must  be  taken  in 
a  wider  sense  than  that  for  employment  merely.  Sentimental  con- 
siderations cannot  be  left  out  of  account.  Men  and  women  flock 
to  the  cities  to  work  and  to  live.  To  those  who  come  for  industrial 
reasons  must  be  added  those  who  come  driven  by  dreams  of  "liv- 

Cf.  Richard  T.  Ely,  The  Coming  City,  p.  26. 


IO         THE   LODGING-HOUSE   PROBLEM   IN   BOSTON 

ing  in  the  city,"  and  to  these  in  turn  all  the  students,  the  tourists, 
and  the  great  number  of  old  and  shipwrecked  persons  who  seem 
naturally  to  gravitate  thither.  Opportunities  for  work,  and  for 
amusement,  excitement,  and  variety,  the  attractive  force  of  the  un- 
known, the  hypnotic  influence  of  the  color  and  movement  and  energy 
of  the  crowd,  all  help  to  draw  men  and  women  to  the  cities. 

Primarily,  nevertheless,  the  reasons  for  the  existence  of  the  lodger 
or  roomer  are  economic.  The  world's  work  has  to  be  done  and 
people  flock  to  the  cities  to  do  it.  To  the  lodging-house  increasing 
numbers  of  the  middle  class  gravitate  in  those  years  of  struggle 
which  in  ever  lengthening  array  must  elapse  between  the  time  they 
leave  the  home  of  their  fathers  and  reach  the  home  of  their  own. 
It  is  the  lodging-house  (or  rooming-house  if  it  is  so  called  in  your 
city)  which  shelters  these  young  people  while  they  gain  an  education 
or  a  " footing"  and  earn  their  own  living.  Certain  causes  thus 
produce  in  the  city  a  multitude  of  homeless  persons  who  must  have 
some  place  to  eat  and  sleep. 

The  demand  thus  created  affords  a  means  of  livelihood  to  a  sec- 
ond class  of  persons,  chiefly  women,  who  could  be  economically 
productive  in  scarcely  any  other  way  than  by  keeping  lodgers.  The 
lodging-house  keeper,  or,  as  she  is  familiarly  known,  the  "land- 
lady," constitutes  a  class  of  her  own.  Her  economic  and  social  status 
are  considered  at  length  in  chapter  vm. 

The  third  element  in  the  lodging-house  question  is  a  real-estate 
problem.  Large  population  migrations  from  one  urban  district  to 
another  take  place  in  the  history  of  every  city.  The  expansion  of 
business  districts,  changes  in  lines  of  transportation,  improvements 
in  suburbs,  and,  more  potent  and  least  explicable  of  all,  changes 
in  the  fashionableness  of  various  districts,  may  depopulate  a  fine 
residence  section,  and  leave  there  a  vast  area  of  old  dwellings  which 
become  forthwith  white  elephants  on  the  hands  of  their  owners. 
Still  too  good  to  be  "made  down"  into  tenements,  the  invariable 
fate  of  these  houses  is  to  be  turned  over  to  the  tender  mercies  of  the 
lodging-  or  boarding-house  keeper. 

The  combination  of  the  problem  of  these  three  classes,  the  lodger, 
the  landlady,  and  the  owner,  forms  the  groundwork  of  the  eco- 
nomic, social,  and  moral  conditions  with  which  the  following 
chapters  will  have  to  deal. 


CHAPTER   II 

THE  HISTORICAL  EVOLUTION  OF  THE  SOUTH  END  LODGING-HOUSE 

SECTION 

THE  existence  of  a  compact  lodging-house  district  demands  his- 
torical explanation.  Why  does  it  happen  to  be  here  rather  than  else- 
where? How  long  has  it  been  here?  What  were  the  forces  that 
placed  it  here?  The  explanation  is  found  in  those  typical  intra- 
urban migrations,  mention  of  which  has  just  been  made  in  the  pre- 
ceding chapter.1 

Previous  to  about  1790  the  North  End  of  Boston  had  been  the 
most  desirable  residential  section,  but  at  that  time  the  West  End, 
Beacon  Hill,  and  part  of  Washington  Street  were  occupied  by  equally 
well-to-do  families.2  Soon  after  this  time,  however,  the  American 
families  began  to  desert  the  North  End  and  to  turn  toward  the  Fort 
Hill  and  Pearl  Street  district.  With  the  passing  of  the  North  End 
as  a  residential  district,  there  were  for  a  considerable  period  in  the 
early  part  of  the  nineteenth  century  two  residential  sections,  namely, 
that  of  Fort  Hill,  and  that  of  Beacon  Hill  and  the  West  End. 

Before  1850,  however,  signs  of  momentous  change  were  already 
apparent.  Two  forces  seem  to  have  been  active,  rendering  new  popu- 
lation movements  inevitable.  The  business  of  the  city  was  rapidly 
expanding,  and  the  situation  of  the  Fort  Hill  district  was  such  that 
it  must  soon  be  demanded  for  business  purposes.  Nothing  so  quickly 
"kills"  a  locality  for  residential  purposes  as  the  resistless  encroach- 
ment of  trade  and  coirimerce  upon  its  borders.  The  phenomenon 
may  be  observed  in  any  large  city  to-day,  and  it  is  invariably  ac- 
companied by  real  estate  and  social  changes  that  make  it  worthy 
of  far  more  study  than  we  can  here  give  it.  In  the  second  place 
Beacon  Hill  and  the  West  End  had  become  so  completely  built-up 
and  so  compactly  populated  that  a  swarming  of  the  young  couples 

1  It  is  not  necessary  here  to  enter  upon  a  detailed  account  of  the  earlier  history  of 
the  South  End.   This  may  be  found  to  some  extent  in  Shurtleff's  Topographical  and 
Historical  Description  of  Boston,  and  in  a  condensed  form  in  The  City  Wilderness. 

2  F.  A.  Bushee,  Growth  of  the  Population  of  Boston,  in  the  Publications  of  the  Amer- 
ican Statistical  Association,  June,  1899,  p.  246. 


12          THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

to  some  other  part  of  the  city  was  necessary.  The  young  people 
who  were  growing  up,  marrying,  and  establishing  homes  of  their 
own,  had  to  cut  themselves  away  from  the  old  residence  district, 
however  much  they  may  have  disliked  to  leave.  The  Back  Bay 
marshes  were  not  then  filled-in  and  indeed  there  was  as  yet  scarcely 
any  thought  of  such  a  measure.  Otherwise  it  is  safe  to  say  that  the 
movement  would  have  been  a  gradual  overflow  of  families  from 
the  Hill  down  onto  the  flats  to  the  west  of  the  Public  Garden.  Nor 
was  there  any  communication  to  speak  of  with  the  suburbs.  In  fact 
it  is  almost  an  anachronism  to  speak  of  suburbs  during  this  period. 
There  were  surrounding  towns,  more  or  less  distant,  but  as  a  rule 
people  who  had  permanent  business  in  the  city  lived  in  the  city. 
From  almost  the  beginning  of  the  century,  circumstances  had 
so  developed  that  the  South  End  was  perforce  destined,  as  time 
went  on,  to  become  the  Mecca  of  well-to-do  families  in  search  of 
a  desirable,  fashionable  locality  in  which  to  "build"  and  establish 
homes.  Beacon  Hill  and  the  West  End  continued  to  hold  their  old 
families  down  to  the  modern  period  characterized  by  the  building- 
up  of  the  Back  Bay,  but  they  poured  forth  their  surplus  population 
into  the  South  End.  The  South  End  speedily  claimed  the  popu- 
lation of  the  old  Fort  Hill  district  also.  Thus  it  came  to  pass  that 
the  South  End  became  the  great  well-to-do  residential  section  of  the 
city.1  Several  influences  determined  this  location.  In  the  first 
place  the  fact  that  the  land  in  the  South  End  was  made  from  good 
solid  material  brought  by  rail  from  the  upland  country  of  Needham 
and  other  towns,  and  not  from  slime  and  mud  pumped  from  the 
bottom  of  the  Charles  River  (the  present  method),  seems  to  have 
been  an  attraction.  But  a  far  stronger  influence  was  the  street  rail- 
way. As  pointed  out  in  "The  City  Wilderness,"  "the  development 
of  the  street  railway  at  the  opportune  moment  determined  the  loca- 
tion of  the  new  residential  section  of  the  period  from  1855  t°  1870 
in  the  South  End.  The  Metropolitan  Railroad  procured  its  charter 
in  1853,  and  opened  its  line  from  Scollay  Square  to  the  South  End 

1  All  but  a  small  portion  of  the  South  End  is  built  upon  made  land.  The  filling- 
in  of  the  marshes  of  the  South  and  Back  Bays  within  the  present  limits  of  the  South 
End  was  in  progress  from  about  1800,  and  was  not  completed  until  the  end  of  the 
'6o's.  Meanwhile  building  operations  had  been  rushed  forward  during  the  '50*3. 
Lack  of  space  forbids  our  tracing,,  even  in  outline,  this  earlier  development  of  the 
South  End,  full  of  interest  as  it  is. 


EVOLUTION  OF  THE  SOUTH  END  DISTRICT  13 

and  Roxbury  late  in  1856.  For  the  next  fifteen  years  the  South  End 
was  the  growing  and  popular  quarter  of  the  city ;  street  after  street 
was  built  up  with  rows  of  swell-front  brick  houses,  which  are  still 
the  dominant  feature  of  the  architecture  of  the  district."  l  In  the 
third  place  it  is  well  to  point  out,  also,  that  with  the  exception  of 
South  Boston,  the  South  End  was  the  only  new  part  of  the  city  open 
to  occupancy.  East  Boston,  Cambridge,  and  Charlestown  were 
miles  away  across  water  and  mud  marshes,  the  Back  Bay  was  an 
artificial  lake,  and  South  Boston  itself,  which  otherwise  might  have 
been  a  beautiful  residence  district,  was  cut  off  by  the  waters  of  the 
South  Bay  and  Fort  Point  Channel.  Continuous  growth  could  take 
place  only  along  the  line  of  the  Neck  and  the  filling  to  either  side 
of  it.  The  street  railway  undoubtedly  facilitated  the  expansion  of 
the  district,  but  it  seems  probable  that  the  South  End  would  have 
been  chosen  anyhow.  And  once  the  tide  of  fashion  had  set  in  that 
direction,  nothing  could  stop  it.  Fashion  decreed  its  favor  to  the 
South  End,  and  that  settled  the  matter. 

Every  effort  was  made  to  make  the  district  attractive.  The  houses 
were  extremely  well  built  for  that  period,  and  no  expense  seems  to 
have  been  spared  to  make  them  elegant,  and  in  many  instances  even 
luxurious.2  Provision  was  made  for  parks,  and  some  of  the  pret- 
tiest places  in  Boston  to-day  are  the  little  parks  and  "squares"  of 
the  South  End  lodging-house  district.  Especially  may  be  mentioned 
West  Chester  Park,  Worcester  Square,  and  Union  Park.  For  al- 
most a  quarter  of  a  century  liveried  coachmen  and  white-capped 
nursemaids  airing  their  charges  were  a  common  sight  on  Tremont 
Street  and  other  thoroughfares,  while  the  cross-streets  were  gay  with 
the  voices  of  children.8 

The  South  End,  then,  was  once  a  city  of  private  homes;  now 

1  The  City  Wilderness,  p.  30. 

2  The  Building  Department  of  the  City  of  Boston  was  not  organized  until  1873. 
Previous  to  that  there  were  no  restrictions  on  building,  other  than  those  contained 
in  the  deeds  to  the  land.    There  is  therefore  no  record  of  building  operations  in  the 
city  until  1873,  and  as  most  of  the  South  End,  with  the  exception  of  Columbus  Avenue, 
was  built  before  that  date,  we  are  thrown  back  upon  the  "oldest  inhabitant"  for 
information. 

3  We  cannot  agree  with  the  writer  in  The  City  Wilderness  when  he  says,  "The 
history  of  the  South  End  is  almost  devoid  of  dramatic  incident  or  picturesqueness."  — 
Page  31. 


14          THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

it  is  a  wilderness  of  factories,  tenements,  and  lodging-houses.  Fully 
five  sixths  of  the  old  residences  are  now  rooming-houses.  Built  in 
the  fifties  and  early  sixties  they  served  their  proper  function  for  an 
allotted  time,  and  then  a  transformation  came  which  was  almost 
startling  in  its  suddenness.  Fashion,  which  had  dealt  kindly  with 
this  section  of  the  city,  changed.  For  some  time  the  South  End 
struggled  to  keep  up  appearances,  to  retain  its  gentility,  but  the 
forces  of  city  growth  were  too  strong  for  it.  Style  changes  in  real 
estate  as  in  dress,  and,  comparatively,  just  as  quickly  and  erratically. 
It  is  said  that  the  first  faint  whisperings  of  impending  change  were 
heard  soon  after  the  Civil  War.  But  the  storm  did  not  break  over 
the  real-estate  situation  in  the  South  End  till  Reconstruction  days 
were  past,  and  the  crisis  of  '73  had  begun  to  work  out  its  effects. 
The  immediate  occasion  for  the  change  seems  to  have  been  the 
real-estate  situation  on  Columbus  Avenue.  This  street  was  put 
through  as  far  as  Northampton  Street  about  1870,  and  was  imme- 
diately built  up  with  a  somewhat  cheaper  style  of  houses  than  those 
on  the  older  streets.  Most  of  these  new  houses  were  built  on  mort- 
gages, and  after  the  panic  of  '73  had  broken  over  the  city  most  of 
them  were  in  the  possession  of  the  banks.  The  banks  sold  them  for 
what  they  would  bring,  and  the  result  was  an  acute  drop  in  the  value 
of  Columbus  Avenue  real  estate,  and  in  the  character  of  the  imme- 
diate locality.  The  shock  thus  felt  on  Columbus  Avenue  with  such 
sudden  force  gradually  had  the  effect  of  disturbing  the  equilibrium 
in  the  rest  of  the  South  End.  It  soon  became  evident  that  the  palmy 
days  of  the  district  were  over.  Men's  eyes  were  turned  towards  a 
new  Mecca.  The  Back  Bay  flats  were  being  filled-in,  and  for  vari- 
ous reasons  they  looked  attractive.  A  few  families,  leaders  in  resi- 
dential fashion,  as  it  were,  broke  the  ice,  sold  or  rented  their  South 
End  homesteads,  and  erected  new  mansions  on  Beacon,  Marlbor- 
ough,  Newbury,  and  Boylston  streets  and  Commonwealth  Avenue. 
The  movement  gained  strength,  slowly  at  first,  and  then,  as  the  con- 
tagion of  change  struck  deeper,  with  an  almost  appalling  rush.  As 
one  person  put  it,  "The  people  got  out  of  the  South  End  like  rats." 
It  is  not  possible  to  assign  any  definite  date  for  the  exodus.  All  we 
can  say  is  that  it  began  in  the  seventies,  gained  momentum  during 
the  early  eighties,  and  was  practically  finished  before  1890.  By  1885 
the  South  End  had  become  dominantly  a  lodging-house  section. 


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EVOLUTION  OF  THE  SOUTH  END  DISTRICT  15 

The  progress  of  the  exodus  and  of  the  change  of  houses  from  pri- 
vate residences  to  lodging-houses  is  illustrated  by  Chart  I,  which 
represents  conditions  as  they  existed  on  Union  Park  from  1868 
to  1902.  This  chart  may  be  taken  as  typical  of  the  whole  district, 
except  that  many  blocks  could  have  been  selected  that  would  show 
no  private  residences  left,  and  also  with  the  possible  exception 
that  the  change  took  place  somewhat  earlier  toward  Dover  Street, 
and  later  toward  Massachusetts  Avenue.  Each  black  line  repre- 
sents an  individual  house  during  the  time  in  which  it  was  a  private 
residence ;  its  continuation  in  a  light  line  represents  the  period  dur- 
ing which  it  has  been  a  lodging-house.  The  chart  indicates  that  the 
period  of  fastest  transformation  was  in  1884-85.  It  is  constructed 
upon  data  secured  by  a  laborious  search  of  the  city  assessors'  books. 

The  period  of  most  rapid  change,  in  the  middle  of  the  eighties, 
was  accompanied  and  followed  by  unusual  activity  in  real-estate 
exchanges  in  the  South  End.  People  moving  away  from  a  declin- 
ing district,  and  perhaps  anxious  to  disengage  money  from  old  pro- 
perty in  order  to  build  new  residences,  were  anxious  to  sell,  all  the 
more  so  because  real-estate  values  were  declining  at  a  prodigious 
rate.1  The  accompanying  table  shows  this  increased  activity  for 
Union  Park. 

TABLE  3.   NUMBER  >OF  REAL-ESTATE  TRANSFERS  ON  UNION  PARK, 

i868-i902.2 

1868-69 4  1885-86 — 7 

1869-70 4  1886-87 5 

1870-71 i~]  1887-88 7 

1871-72 6  1888-89 6 

1872-73 4  >  16  1889-90 6 

1873-74 4  1890-91 5 

1874-75 ij  1891-92 7 

1875-76.... 3^  1892-93.... 2  }•  22 

1876-77 o  1893-94 2 

1877-78 i   \    6  1894-95 6 

1878-79 i  1895-96 6 

1879-80 ij  1896-97 6 

i88o-8i....oS  1897-98.... 5  f  22 

1881-82 5  1898-99 5 

1882-83.... 3  \  15  1899-1900.. o 

1883-84 4  1900-1901.. 5 

1884-85 3]  1901-1902. .5 

1  See  Chart  vn. 

1  Data  from  city  assessors'  books. 


1 6          THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

It  is  significant  that  the  number  of  transfers  more  than  doubled  in 
the  five  years  1885-1890,  over  the  number  in  the  preceding  five 
years. 

The  obverse  of  the  shield  —  the  darker  aspect  of  which  for  the 
South  End  in  this  period  showed  thus  a  great  exodus  of  private  fam- 
ilies, increase  of  real- estate  transfers,  decline  in  real- estate  values, 
and  an  incoming  of  the  lodging-house  —  is  to  be  seen  in  other 
places  in  the  filling,  building,  and  populating  of  the  Back  Bay,  and 
in  an  enormous  increase  of  the  population  in  the  suburbs.  Back 
of  the  call  of  fashion,  which  demanded  that  the  rich  and  well-to-do 
families  should  migrate  to  the  wind-swept,  mud-filled,  and  treeless 
flats  of  the  Charles  River,  lay  certain  more  rational  motives.  The 
houses  of  the  South  End  were  not  yet  old,  but  they  were  of  an  old 
type.  Business  was  creeping  in  on  the  north,  and  factories  were 
beginning  to  belch  smoke  on  the  east.  Above  all,  however,  the  open- 
ing-up  of  the  Back  Bay  lands  gave  opportunity  for  the  people  who 
had  once  migrated  from  Beacon  Hill  and  the  West  End  to  return 
and  be  near  their  old  friends  and  relatives.  The  West  End  was  de- 
clining, to  be  sure,  just  as  the  South  End  was,  but  families  were 
simply  moving  out  onto  the  newly  made  land,  and  the  South  End 
families  made  haste  to  join  them.  "In  all  growth,  great  or  small, 
central  or  axial,  the  vital  feature  is  continuity,  the  universal  tend- 
ency being  to  add  on  buildings  one  by  one,  of  the  same  general 
character  as  those  which  preceded  them,"  says  a  recent  authority. 
"Lack  of  continuity,  from  whatever  cause,  explains  many  of  the 
greatest  disappointments  in  anticipated  real-estate  movements."  l 
This  fact  was  admirably  illustrated  by  both  the  South  End  and  the 
\  Back  Bay.  The  South  End,  lacking  continuity  with  the  older  resi- 
J  dence  district,  could  not  hold  its  own  when  that  continuity  was 
i  established  between  Beacon  Hill  and  the  Back  Bay. 

Another  reason,  almost  as  strong,  for  the  exodus  was  the  growing 
popularity  of  the  suburbs.  The  cheapness  of  land  and  building 
material  for  frame  houses  outside  the  city  attracted  many  persons. 
The  expansion  of  the  park  systems,  the  improvement  of  thorough- 
fares, and  the  great  natural  beauty  of  many  of  the  city's  suburbs 
attracted  others.  Thus  towns  like  Milton  and  Brookline  drew  the 
rich  and  the  ultra-rich.  What  counts  for  more,  however,  the  expan- 

1  Kurd,  Principles  of  City  Land  Values,  p.  74. 


EVOLUTION  OF  THE  SOUTH  END  DISTRICT  17 

sion  of  the  street  railway  systems,  and  the  improvement  of  the  sub- 
urban service  on  the  steam  roads,  enabled  people  of  moderate 
means  to  live  in  the  suburbs  with  some  degree  of  comfort.  Rapid 
transit  has  done  much  to  change  the  configuration  of  most  cities. 
Just  as  the  introduction  of  the  horse-car  had  been  an  influence 
drawing  people  to  the  South  End,  so  now  the  electric  car  was  a  force 
attracting  more  and  more  people  away  from  the  congested  inner 
circles.1  That  some  connection  existed  between  the  growth  of  the 
suburbs  and  the  exodus  of  families  from  the  South  End  is  evident 
from  Tables  4,  5,  and  6.  Table  5  includes  the  inner  suburbs  which 
are  practically  continuous  with  the  city,  and  which  can  be  reached 
by  a  five-cent  fare.  Table  6  includes  outer  suburbs  which  fall  within 
a  radius  of  approximately  twelve  miles  from  the  State  House. 

TABLE  4.2    POPULATION  AND  INCREASE  OF  POPULATION,  BOSTON, 

1870-1905 


1905 

1900 

1890 

1880 

1870 

Population 

595,380 

560,892 

448,477 

362,839 

250,526 

Increase  (numbers) 

34,488 

112,415 

85,638 

112,313 

Increase  (per  cent.) 

6.1 

25.0 

23.6 

44-9 

TABLE  5.    POPULATION  AND  INCREASE  OF 

POPULATION, 

INNER 

SUBURBS,  1870-1905 

1905 

1900 

1890 

1880 

1870 

Brookline 

23,436 

19,935 

12,103 

8,057 

6,650 

Newton 

36,827 

33,587 

24,379 

i6,995 

12,825 

Watertown 

11,258 

9,706 

7,073 

5,426 

4,326 

Cambridge 

97,434 

91,886 

70,028 

52,699 

36,934 

Somerville 

69,272 

61,643 

40,152         24,933 

14,685 

Medford 

19,686 

18,244 

11,079 

7,573 

5,717 

Maiden 

38,037 

33,664 

23,031 

12,017 

7,367 

Everett 

29,111 

24,336 

1  1,  068 

4,i59 

2,220 

Chelsea 

37,289 

34,072 

27,909 

21,782 

18,547 

1  For  some  statistics  of  the  Boston  Elevated  Railroad  Company,  see  Publications, 
Am.  Acad.  of  Pol.  and  Soc.  Science,  no.  345,  p.  124. 

3  The  data  for  this  and  the  two  following  tables  are  taken  from  the  U.  S.  Census 
for  1870  and  1880,  Tenth  Census,  Pop.,  vol.  i,  pp.  208,  290;  for  1890  and  1900,  Twelfth 
Census,  Pop.,  part  i,  pp.  199-201.  The  figures  for  1905  are  from  the  advance  sheets 
of  the  Mass.  State  Census  of  1905  pamphlet  entitled  Population  and  Legal  Voters. 
Includes:  Boston  proper,  East  Boston,  South  Boston,  Dorchester,  West  Roxbury 
(annexed  1872-3),  Brighton  (annexed  1873),  Charlestown  (annexed  1873),  and 
Roxbury. 


i8 


THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 


Revere 

12,659 

io,395 

5,668 

2,263 

i,i97 

Winthrop 

7,034 

6,058 

2,726 

1,043 

532 

Arlington 

9,668 

8,603 

5,629 

4,100 

3,261 

Hyde  Park 

i4,510 

13,244 

10,193 

7,088 

4,i36 

Milton 

7,054 

6,578 

4,278 

3,206 

2,683 

Totals 

413^75 

37i,95i 

255,314 

I7i,34i 

121,080 

Increase  (numbers) 

4i,324 

116,637 

83,957 

50,261 

Increase  (per  cent.) 

ii.  i 

45-7 

48-9 

41-5 

TABLE  6.    POPULATION  AND  INCREASE  OF  POPULATION, 

OUTER 

SUBURBS,  1870-1905 

1905 

1900 

1890 

1880 

1870 

Lexington 

4,530 

3,831 

3,i97 

2,460 

2,227 

Winchester 

8,242 

7,248 

4,861 

3,802 

2,645 

Woburn 

14,402 

14,254 

13,499 

10,931 

8,560 

Burlington 

588 

593 

6I7 

711 

626 

Melrose 

14,295 

12,962 

9,5i9 

4,56o 

3,414 

Stoneham 

6,332 

6,197 

6,155 

4,890 

4,513 

Wakefield 

10,268 

9,29° 

6,982 

5,547 

4,135 

Reading 

5,682 

4,969 

4,088 

3,i8i 

2,664 

Saugus 

6,253 

5,084 

3,673 

2,625 

2,247 

Lynn 

77,042 

68,513 

55,727 

38,274 

28,233 

Swampscott 

5,!4i 

4,548 

3,i98 

2,500 

1,846 

Nahant 

922 

1,152 

880 

808 

475 

Hull 

2,060 

1,703 

989 

383 

261 

Hingham 

4,819 

5,059 

4,564 

4,485 

4,442 

Weymouth 

11,585 

11,324 

10,866 

10,570 

9,090 

Braintree 

6,879 

5,98i 

4,848 

3,855 

3,948 

Quincy 

28,076 

23,899 

16,723 

10,570 

7,442 

Randolph 

4,034 

3,993 

3,946 

4,027 

5,642 

Canton 

4,702 

4,584 

4,538 

4,5i6 

3,879 

Dedham 

7,774 

7,457 

7,123 

6,233 

7,342 

Westwood  * 

1,136 

1,112 

Wellesley 

6,189 

5,072 

3,600 

Weston 

2,091 

1,834 

1,664 

1,148 

1,261 

Waltham 

26,282 

23,481 

18,707 

11,712 

9,065 

Belmont 

4,360 

3,929 

2,098 

1,615 

i,5i3 

Needham 

4,284 

4,016 

3,035 

5,252 

3,607 

Totals 

267,968 

242,085 

194,097 

143,635 

120,027 

Increase  (numbers) 

25,883 

47,988 

50,462 

23,608 

Increase  (per  cent.) 

10.7 

24-5 

35-i 

19.6 

In  view  of  the  facts  brought  out  by  these  tables  we  are  constrained 
to  differ  with  the  writer  in  the  "  Publications  "  of  the  American  Sta- 

1  Organized  from  Dedham  town  since  1890. 


EVOLUTION  OF  THE  SOUTH  END  DISTRICT  19 

tistical  Association  who  says,  "the  greatest  growths  of  the  suburbs 
have  usually  taken  place  contemporaneously  with  the  greatest 
growths  of  the  city."  1  A  comparison  of  the  percentage  of  increase 
for  the  three  decades  shows  exactly  the  opposite  fact: 

TABLE  7.  PERCENTAGE  OF  INCREASE  OF  POPULATION,  BOSTON  AND 

SUBURBS 
1900—1905 

(half-decade)           1890-1900  1880-1890  1870-1880 

Boston                         6.1                       25.0  23.6  44.9 

Inner  suburbs           n.i                      45.7  48.9  41.5 

Outer  suburbs          10.7                     24.5  35.1  19.6 

The  period  of  greatest  growth  for  the  city,  1870-1880,  was  that  of 
the  least  growth  for  the  suburbs,  while  the  period  of  least  growth 
of  the  city,  1880-1890,  was  that  of  the  greatest  growth  of  the  sub- 
urbs. The  five  years  1900-1905  also  show  a  much  faster  rate  of 
growth  of  the  suburbs  than  of  the  city.  There  is  no  doubt  whatever 
that  the  decade  1880-1890  was  one  of  reaction  against  crowded  city 
conditions,  and  of  expansion  of  suburban  life.  In  thirty  years  the 
city  and  outer  suburbs  doubled  their  population;  in  the  same  time 
the  population  of  the  inner  suburbs  trebled.  The  fact  we  wish  to 
emphasize  is  that  this  movement  of  the  decade  1880-1890  was  con- 
temporaneous with  the  exodus  from  the  South  End.  The  people 
who  left  that  section  of  the  city  went  partly  to  the  Back  Bay,  partly 
to  the  suburbs;  and  their  places  in  the  South  End  were  taken  by 
an  army  of  lodgers  and  lodging-house  keepers.  There  was  an  ele- 
ment of  the  dramatic  in  this  sudden  transformation  of  a  whole  dis- 
trict, in  the  turning-over  of  houses  full  of  associations  and  family 
history  to  the  tender  mercies  of  indifferent  strangers.  Everywhere 
in  the  South  End  to-day  we  are  reminded  of  a  departed  glory,  and 
there  is  something  of  sadness  in  the  plaint  of  such  old  residents  as 
still  remain:  "The  South  End  is  not  what  it  once  was!"  In  the 
chapters  that  follow  we  shall  gain  some  idea  of  what  the  South  End 
is  like  to-day. 

1  F.  A.  Bush^e,  The  Growth  of  the  Population  of  Boston,  in  Publications,  A.  S.  A., 
June,  1899,  p.  259. 


CHAPTER  III 

THE  LODGING-HOUSE  DISTRICTS  OF  BOSTON 

Section  I.    The  South  End 

THE  lodging-house  district  of  the  South  End  of  Boston  is  probably 
one  of  the  most  compact  and  characteristic,  if  not  also  the  largest 
to  be  found  in  any  city.  Its  boundaries  cannot  be  described  on  every 
side  with  absolute  precision,  however,  for  the  reason  that  the  main 
central  area,  the  unmistakable  region  of  lodging-houses,  in  places 
gradually  merges  out  into  other  districts  occupied  either  by  apart- 
ment-houses or  by  tenements. 

The  general  situation  of  the  district  as  regards  the  rest  of  the  city 
is  shown  in  Chart  n.  Roughly  speaking  the  district  extends  from 
Dover  and  Berkeley  streets  on  the  north  to  Northampton  on  the 
south,  a  distance  of  about  four  fifths  of  a  mile;  and  from  the  New 
York,  New  Haven  and  Hartford  Railroad  (between  Columbus  and 
Huntington  avenues)  on  the  west  to  Washington  Street  on  the  east. 
The  situation  of  the  district  within  the  South  End,  and  the  details 
of  boundary  are  shown  in  Charts  HI  and  iv.  The  boundaries  on 
the  north  and  west  are  clearly  cut  and  definite.  On  the  west  side 
there  is  the  great  apartment-  and  lodging-house  district  which 
stretches  from  Copley  Square  out  Huntington  Avenue;  but  be- 
tween this  and  the  South  End  is  the  railroad,  which  is  an  effectual 
barrier  between  the  two  districts,  preventing  them  from  having 
much  in  common.  On  the  north  side  Dover  Street  separates  the 
district  sharply  from  a  very  compact  and  crowded  tenement- house 
section,  which  intervenes  between  the  lodging-house  district  and 
the  downtown  business  section.  On  the  south  the  lodging-house 
section  fades  out  quickly,  but  not  all  at  once,  into  the  tenement- 
house  district  of  lower  Roxbury;  but  even  here  and  far  up  toward 
Roxbury  Crossing,  on  the  cross- streets,  the  sign  "Rooms  to  Let" 
meets  the  eye  at  not  infrequent  intervals.  On  the  east  the  limits  are 
somewhat  harder  to  fix.  Southeastward  the  district  stretches  across 


THE  LODGING-HOUSE  DISTRICTS  OF  BOSTON         21 

Washington  Street,  and  is  brought  summarily  to  a  stop  by  the  grounds 
of  the  City  Hospital.  But  further  north  are  a  number  of  cross- streets, 
Stoughton,  East  Newton,  etc.,  which  are  lined  with  houses  that 
look  like  lodging-houses,  but  which  for  the  most  part  have  under- 
gone one  more  stage  of  degeneration  and  been  "made  down"  into 
tenements.  Some  are  still  lodging-houses,  however,  and  many  of 
the  tenements  take  in  lodgers.  The  boundary  on  the  east,  therefore, 
has  to  be  located  somewhat  arbitrarily.  It  is  to  be  noticed  that  the 
district  is  surrounded  on  three  sides  —  the  north,  east,  and  south 
by  great  tenement-house  areas,  which  respectively  separate  it  from 
the  business  section,  from  the  waters  of  the  South  Bay,  and  from 
the  outlying  regions  of  Roxbury  and  Dorchester. 

As  will  be  seen  by  Chart  n,  most  of  the  district  is  within  easy 
walking  distance  of  downtown,  no  part  of  it  being  more  than  a  mile 
and  a  half  distant  from  the  business  district.  Transportation  facil- 
ities are  excellent.  At  least  three  thoroughfares  traverse  the  dis- 
trict from  downtown  —  Washington  Street,  with  its  surface  lines 
and  the  elevated,  Tremont  Street,  with  surface  cars  either  way  al- 
most every  minute,  and  Columbus  Avenue,  with  scarcely  less  fre- 
quent service.  A  few  surface  cars  also  run  on  Shawmut  Avenue. 
Facilities  for  communication  across  the  district  are  not  so  good. 
Practically  no  car  service  exists  between  the  South  End  and  the 
Back  Bay. 

Like  the  Back  Bay  the  South  End  is  almost  a  dead  level,  rang- 
ing only  from  twelve  to  eighteen  feet  above  tidewater.  The  street 
plan  of  the  district  (see  Chart  in)  shows  three  features.  First, 
the  four  longitudinal  thoroughfares  already  mentioned,  radiating 
from  the  business  district  through  the  lodging-house  section  to  Rox- 
bury and  beyond.  Second,  the  cross- streets,  which  run  from  the 
railroad  through  the  district  to  Harrison  Avenue  and  beyond.  And 
third,  several  small  parks  and  squares,  of  which  the  combined 
Franklin  and  Blackstone  squares  have  the  greatest  area. 

The  most  characteristic  external  feature  of  the  district  is  its  houses. 
The  first  impression  is  one  of  insufferable  monotony  in  the  style 
of  architecture.  The  architects  of  fifty  years  ago  seem  to  have 
lacked  creative  imagination,  and  apparently  could  conceive  of  but 
one  form  of  city  residence.  The  cost  of  buildings  frequently  rose 
to  $25,000  and  sometimes  as  high  as  $40,000,  but  they  were  all  of 


22          THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

the  same  type  —  pressed  brick,  trimmed  with  brown  or  red  sand- 
stone with  "swell  fronts"  and  "high  stoops,"  granite  steps  and  an 
oppressive  amount  of  ironwork  in  balustrades  and  the  fences  with 
which  the  little  six  by  ten  front  grass-plots  were  religiously  inclosed. 
Looking  down  a  street  of  these  edifices,  one  sees  a  series  of  swell 
fronts,  three  or  four  stories  high,  a  battery  of  high  front  steps,  and 
a  skyline  scalloped  by  the  tops  of  the  fronts  and  notched  by  the 
dormer  windows  of  the  attic  rooms. 

Many  of  the  cross- streets  are  shaded,  chiefly  with  elms,  which 
in  summer  afford  a  grateful  relief  from  the  heat  which,  on  the  main 
thoroughfares  and  the  unprotected  side  streets,  beats  down  un- 
mercifully upon  the  brick  walls  and  macadam  pavements.  The 
trees  of  Union  and  West  Chester  Parks  and  of  Worcester  Square 
do  credit  to  the  civic  thoughtfulness  of  the  builders  of  the  South 
End.  These  oases  of  green  in  an  endless  desert  of  brick  and  mor- 
tar, mere  swellings  in  the  streets  as  they  are,  are  due  to  private  en- 
terprise of  the  past.  Property  owners  on  them  bore  the  expense  of 
their  maintenance,  and  had  the  chief  enjoyment  of  their  use.  On 
Union  Park  each  householder  carried  a  key  to  the  gate  of  the  cen- 
tral park  area.  In  two  or  three  instances  what  were  once  semi- 
private  parks  of  this  sort  may  be  found  tucked  away  in  the  middle 
of  a  block,  and  reached  at  present  only  by  a  narrow  and  unsightly 
alley.  The  yards  in  the  rear  of  the  houses  are  larger  than  would  be 
the  case  with  modern  real- estate  property.  When  they  are  well  kept 
they  are  not  unattractive,  and  the  writer  has  seen  two  or  three  lodg- 
ing-house back  yards  which  would  not  greatly  shock  the  taste  of 
the  most  fastidious.  In  many  of  the  yards  are  fruit  and  other  trees, 
with  here  and  there  a  lilac  bush  to  remind  us  of  the  past.  In  the 
spring,  along  many  of  the  alleys  blossoms  and  green  buds  are  not 
lacking  to  apprise  the  rear-room  lodger  of  the  season.  The  poorer 
parts  of  the  district,  however,  approach  more  nearly  tenement-area 
conditions.  The  alleys  themselves,  like  many  of  the  yards,  are  not 
too  well  kept,  and  the  writer  is  inclined  to  think  that  the  streets  of 
the  lodging-house  district  on  the  whole  are  not  kept  so  clean  as  those 
of  the  tenement  regions,  especially  where  the  city  in  the  latter  has 
put  down  asphalt  pavement. 

No  part  of  the  city  assumes  a  more  deceptive  outward  appear- 
ance than  the  South  End  lodging-house  district.  One  can  pass 


CMART-I 


or  THE: 

SOUTH  eNB1  ^  WEST 


D1STHICT3 


50UTH     E.NJ)., 

WEST  E.NP. 


THE  LODGING-HOUSE  DISTRICTS  OF  BOSTON         2$ 

through  most  parts  of  it  in  any  direction  with  eyes  wide  open  and 
senses  alert,  and  yet  get  scarcely  an  inkling  of  the  nature  of  the  life 
that  goes  on  within  the  clean  and  genteel  exteriors  of  these  elegantly 
sombre  and  dignified  old  houses.  They  look  like  the  mansions  of 
the  moderately  rich  and  well-to-do.  True,  there  is  that  in  them 
which  speaks  of  decline,  but  touched  up  with  a  few  repairs,  they 
might  be  the  residence  place  of  "old  families."  Only  the  tell-tale 
"Rooms  to  Let"  sign  informs  us  to  the  contrary.  The  mansions  are 
lodging-houses,  their  mistresses  are  "landladies,"  and  the  men  and 
women  who  carry  their  latch-keys,  to  let  themselves  in  and  out  when 
they  will,  are  lodgers. 

We  saw  in  Chapter  n  that  nearly  every  house  has  become  a 
lodging-house.  The  general  compactness  of  the  South  End  as  a 
lodging-house  district  is  shown  in  Chart  in.  Private  residences 
are  so  few  and  so  scattered  that  they  could  not  be  represented  on 
the  chart. 

There  are  many  miscellaneous  features  in  the  district,  some  of 
which  have  nothing,  or  very  little,  to  do  with  its  life.  Such  are  the 
churches,  the  grammar  schools,  the  Latin  and  English  high  schools, 
and  a  number  of  charitable  and  philanthropical  institutions.  The 
more  important  of  these  are  indicated  in  the  chart. 

During  the  working  hours  of  the  day  the  cross- streets  are  almost 
deserted,  —  only  the  main  thoroughfares  presenting  the  varied  life 
of  many  persons  coming  and  going  on  their  countless  individual 
missions.  The  lodging-house  population  works,  and  the  houses  are 
cleared  by  eight  o'clock  in  the  morning.  But  when  the  business  day 
is  over  and  the  downtown  offices  and  shops  pour  forth  their  living 
stream  of  tired  humanity,  the  district  assumes  a  new  aspect.  Every 
passing  car  drops  at  each  crossing  its  quota  of  men  and  women; 
through  the  streets  flows  a  continuous  procession  of  pedestrians, 
wending  their  way  to  rooms  or  cafes,  spreading  out  through  the 
side  streets,  filtering  into  the  great  lines  of  lodging-houses  as  far 
as  Northampton  Street,  like  a  river  flowing  through  a  delta  with 
many  mouths.  Then  the  deserted  rooms  put  forth  light  after  light, 
until  by  eight  o'clock  half  the  windows  are  illumined,  some  dimly, 
some  brilliantly.  Meanwhile  the  cafe's  and  dining-rooms  are  hav- 
ing their  second  busy  season  of  the  day  (the  first  being  in  the  morn- 
ing), and  do  not  quiet  down  till  after  eight  o'clock. 


24          THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

On  a  summer's  evening  the  scene  is  shifted  a  little.  There  are 
fewer  lodgers  in  the  district,  all  who  could  having  betaken  them- 
selves to  Winthrop  or  some  other  near-by  resort,  anywhere  out  of 
the  heat,  the  dust,  and  the  dead  air  of  the  city.  Those  who  remain 
seem  to  prefer  the  evening  on  the  front  steps  to  the  seclusion  of  their 
rooms.  There  is  more  sociability  in  the  spring  and  summer.  Groups 
on  the  steps  of  nearly  every  house  linger  the  evening  through,  dis- 
cussing nothings  or  the  price  of  board  at  the  latest  new  cafe". 

Section  II.  Beacon  Hill  and  the  West  End 

There  are  two  typical  large  lodging-house  districts  in  Boston,  — 
the  South  End,  and  Beacon  Hill,  including  a  portion  of  the  West 
End.  Although  this  inquiry  is  concerned  chiefly  with  the  lodger 
problem  as  presented  in  the  South  End,  it  will  not  be  amiss  to  say 
a  word  about  the  West  End  and  about  the  smaller  aggregations  of 
lodging-houses  which  exist  here  and  there  in  the  city. 

The  Beacon  Hill  and  West  End  district  is  far  less  compact  and 
homogeneous  than  the  South  End.  In  the  West  End  we  have  a 
heterogeneous  mass  of  tenements  and  lodging-houses  mingled  on 
the  same  street  in  the  most  haphazard  manner.  We  find  character- 
istic lodging-house  streets,  also,  sandwiched  in  between  streets  of 
tenement-houses,  and  vice  versa.  Beginning  at  Bowdoin  Square 
a  more  or  less  well-defined  belt  of  lodging-houses  extends  north- 
ward and  westward,  taking  in  portions  of  Green,  Lynde,  Cham- 
bers, Eaton,  McLean,  and  Allan  streets.  But  the  main  body  of  lodg- 
ing-houses lies  to  the  south  and  southwest  of  Bowdoin  Square,  in 
the  direction  of  the  State  House,  the  Common,  and  Beacon  Street. 
Here  are  lodging-house  streets  like  Hancock,  Temple,  and  Bow- 
doin, almost  as  compact  as  those  of  the  South  End,  stretching  up 
Beacon  Hill  nearly  to  the  State  House.  The  streets  down  the  west- 
ern slope  of  the  hill  are  also  more  or  less  thickly  occupied  with  lodg- 
ing-houses. These  include  portions  of  Joy,  Russell,  Myrtle,  Revere, 
West  Cedar,  Pinckney,  Mt.  Vernon,  and  Chestnut  streets. 

The  history  of  the  South  End  district  can  be  summed  up  in  one 
or  two  epochs  marked  by  violent  changes  in  the  character  of  the 
district.  For  the  West  End  and  Beacon  Hill  no  such  sharp-cut  and 
characteristic  periods  can  be  distinguished.  To  quote  from  "Amer- 
icans in  Process": 


THE  LODGING-HOUSE  DISTRICTS  OF  BOSTON         25 

"During  most  of  the  nineteenth  century  the  West  End  was  a  dis- 
trict splendidly  representative  of  Anglo-Saxon  American  life.  Upon 
the  summit  of  Beacon  Hill  were  the  finest  residences  of  the  city, 
rapidly  increasing  in  number  after  the  completion  of  the  State  House 
in  1798;  and  upon  the  streets  just  behind  the  State  House  to  the 
east,  Hancock,  Temple,  and  Bowdoin  streets,  lived  some  of  the 
most  distinguished  men  in  Boston's  history.  .  .  . 

"The  first  enemy  of  the  home  life  of  the  West  End  was  not  the 
one  that  earliest  attacked  the  older  district  [the  North  End].  It  was 
the  outcome  not  of  foreign  immigration,  but  of  increase  in  native 
population  drawn  in  by  the  growth  of  the  city's  trade.  Boarding- 
houses,  and  not  tenements,  here  put  the  homes  to  flight.  Lads  from 
sixteen  to  twenty-five,  leaving  the  farm  for  the  larger  opportuni- 
ties of  the  city,  demanded  shelter.  Widows  and  spinsters  of  the 
West  End  opened  their  doors,  thankful  for  this  new  means  of  bread- 
winning  at  a  time  when  needlework  and  teaching  were  the  only 
occupations  for  American  women." l 

Whatever  may  have  been  the  beneficial  offices  of  the  boarding- 
house  in  its  day,  it  is  now,  in  Boston  at  least,  an  institution  of  the 
past.  "Its  less  worthy  successor,  the  lodging-house,  still  marks 
the  advance  of  irresistible  forces  that  at  last  are  pushing  all  the  earlier 
types  of  American  life  entirely  outside  the  confines  of  Boston."  * 
The  West  End  is  now  a  great  conglomerate  of  tenements,  apart- 
ments, and  lodging-houses,  together  with  numbers  of  small  retail 
shops  creeping  up  the  streets,  and  the  few  private  residences  which 
still  cling  tenaciously  to  their  old  locations  on  the  western  slope  of 
Beacon  Hill.  While  the  change  from  private  residences  to  lodging- 
houses  was  taking  place,  the  external  appearance  of  the  district 
was  also  suffering  change.  Whole  sections  have  gradually  sunk  to  the 
tenement-house  level;  and  with  the  slow  certainty  of  a  dread  dis- 
ease the  ugly,  cheap  brick  front  of  the  tenement  is  creeping  up  the 
sides  of  Beacon  Hill,  and  appearing  in  blotches  here  and  there  in 
otherwise  healthy  looking  streets  of  fine  old  residences.  Thus  re- 
sults the  present  heterogeneous  appearance  of  the  district.  It  is  a 
mixture  of  many  different  elements,  not  like  the  South  End,  where 
every  house  is  a  lodging-house,  and  each  one  an  exact  copy  of  its 
neighbor. 

1  Elizabeth  Y.  Rutan,  in  Americans  in  Process,  pp.  35-39. 


26          THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

Section  III.   Miscellaneous  Small  Districts 

Returning  to  the  South  End  but  still  outside  the  lodging-house 
district  proper,  we  find  scarcely  a  street  of  any  length  in  this  whole 
part  of  the  city  where  the  "Rooms  to  Let"  sign  is  not  displayed. 
There  are  numbers  of  isolated  lodging-house  streets,  like  Rollins, 
Asylum,  and  Davis.  Even  on  semi-tenement  streets  like  Stoughton 
and  East  Brookline,  and  in  densely  packed  tenement  regions  like 
the  district  between  Dover  and  Castle  streets,  rooms  may  be  had. 
Lower  Harrison  Avenue  between  Chinatown  and  Castle  Street  is 
lined  with  room-signs,  as  are  also  Tremont  Street  from  Castle  Square 
to  Pleasant  Street,  St.  James  Avenue,  and  parts  of  many  other 
streets  in  the  city.  Around  Madison  Park  in  lower  Roxbury  is 
another  cluster  of  lodging-houses. 

The  apartment-house  region  about  Huntington  Avenue  and  St. 
Botolph  Street  is  practically  a  lodging-house  district,  but  of  a  dif- 
ferent and  higher  type  than  the  two  already  described.  Nearly  every 
flat  and  apartment  in  this  district,  which  lies  roughly  between  Boyls- 
ton  Street  and  the  New  York,  New  Haven  and  Hartford  Railroad, 
offers  rooms  to  let.  They  are  taken  very  largely  by  students,  artists, 
musicians,  and  business-men  of  comfortable  income.  In  the  streets 
between  Symphony  Hall  and  the  Fens  another  large  student  quarter 
is  found.  Newbury  Street  in  the  Back  Bay  for  almost  its  whole 
length  is  rapidly  becoming  a  lodging-house  street.  While  this  in- 
vestigation is  concerned  chiefly  with  the  South  End,  therefore,  it 
must  not  be  forgotten  that  lodging-houses  and  lodgers  are  to  be 
found  in  many  other  parts  of  the  city.  It  comes  the  nearest  to  ubi- 
quity, perhaps,  of  any  type  of  city  dwelling. 


CHAPTER   IV 

THE    ECONOMIC    STRUCTURE    OF   THE    SOUTH   END    LODGING-HOUSE 

DISTRICT 

IT  would  be  strange  if  a  district  so  distinctly  differentiated  from  its 
surrounding  neighbors  as  we  have  seen  the  South  End  lodging- 
house  district  to  be  had  not  a  definite  internal  structure.  The  pri- 
mary division  of  the  South  End  streets  into  horizontal  thorough- 
fares radiating  through  the  district  from  the  downtown  business 
section,  and  the  cross- streets,  marks  also  a  fundamental  division 
of  economic  function.  The  key  to  the  economic  structure  of  the 
lodging-house  district  is  the  grouping  and  localization  of  mercan- 
tile industries.  The  cross-streets  are  devoted  almost  entirely  to  lodg- 
ing-houses, but  the  main  thoroughfares  are  lined  not  only  with  lodg- 
ing-houses but  also  with  all  the  variety  of  shops  and  local  industries 
that  can  cater  to  the  wants  and  whims  of  forty  thousand  people. 
Nearly  all  the  cafes,  dining-rooms,  laundries,  tailor- shops,  and  drug- 
stores are  grouped  primarily  on  the  three  main  lines  of  communi- 
cation, Tremont  Street,  Washington  Street,  and  Columbus  Avenue, 
with  a  secondary  grouping  on  certain  parts  of  Dover  and  Dart- 
mouth streets  and  Shawmut  Avenue. 

The  situation  of  the  various  business  establishments  which  de- 
pend for  support  chiefly  upon  the  lodgers  is  shown  in  Chart  iv, 
which  represents  conditions  as  they  existed  in  October,  1903.  Only 
the  main  and  the  more  numerous  kinds  of  establishments  are  indi- 
cated. The  map  includes  87  cafe's,  65  basement  dining-rooms,  41 
saloons,  24  liquor- stores,  27  drug-stores,  n  pool-rooms,  70  tailor- 
ing establishments,  78  laundries,  and  a  number  of  real-estate  offices. 
The  eating- establishments,  to  a  total  of  152,  stand  out  with  great- 
est prominence  both  numerically  and  as  features  of  the  district, 
with  the  laundries  and  tailor- shops  as  prominent  seconds. 

These  local  industries  may  be  grouped  broadly,  first  into  those 
which  provide  food,  second  those  which  provide  drink,  amusement, 
and  recreation,  third  those  which  look  after  the  clothing  of  the  peo- 


28  THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

pie,  fourth  those  concerned  with  the  health  of  the  people,  and  fifth 
miscellaneous. 

Under  the  first  group  —  establishments  which  feed  the  people 
—  fall  the  cafes,  dining-rooms,  and  quick  lunches;  the  bakeries, 
delicatessen  establishments,  and  cooked-meat  stores ;  the  grocery 
and  provision  stores,  and  the  fruit-stands.  There  is  some  difference 
between  the  cafe"  and  the  dining-room.  The  cafe  ordinarily  serves 
meals  a  la  carte  and  semi-table  d'hote.  The  dining-room  serves  only 
table  d'hote,  is  usually  managed  by  a  woman  of  uncertain  experience, 
and  is  invariably  located  in  the  basement  of  some  lodging-house. 
A  glance  at  the  map  will  show  that  the  cafe's  are  scattered  thickly 
along  Columbus  Avenue,  along  Tremont  Street  between  Massa- 
chusetts Avenue  and  West  Brookline  Street,  and  along  Washing- 
ton Street.  Basement  dining-rooms  can  also  be  noted  here  and  there 
upon  the  cross- streets,  but  like  the  cafes  they  tend  to  group  upon 
the  main  streets.  Prices  charged  and  kind  of  food  served  are  de- 
scribed in  Chapter  xiv. 

Scattered  all  over  the  district,  but  chiefly  on  the  main  streets, 
especially  on  Tremont  Street  and  Columbus  Avenue,  are  small 
bake-shops  and  delicatessen  depots.  They  carry  a  light  line  of  "  ready  - 
to-eat"  groceries,  bread,  cake,  crackers,  cookies,  cream  and  milk, 
pickles,  olives,  etc.  Many  of  the  cafes  also  sell  light  provisions  of 
the  cake  and  pickle  variety.  No  attempt  is  made  to  locate  the  deli- 
catessen establishments  on  the  map.  Their  number,  however,  and 
the  business  they  do,  are  suggestive  of  the  amount  of  cracker  and 
cheese  diet  that  must  be  indulged  in  by  the  lodger  class.  These 
shops  are  always  open  late  at  night,  especially  on  Saturdays,  when 
they  are  crowded  with  customers.  They  are  open,  also,  on  Sunday 
mornings. 

The  second  class  of  establishments  includes  the  saloons,  pool- 
rooms, dance-halls,  theatres,  and  one  beer-garden.  These  may  all 
be  classed  together  as  among  the  agencies  which  help  to  satisfy 
the  pleasure-loving  and  social  instincts.  About  a  dozen  pool-rooms 
are  situated  within  or  near  the  limits  of  the  district,  but  they  evi- 
dently rely  only  in  part  upon  the  lodging-house  population  for  their 
patronage.  The  law  in  Boston  does  not  permit  saloons  to  run  pool- 
rooms. The  two  classes  of  establishments  are  therefore  distinct, 
although  they  here  and  there  appear  to  centre  in  the  same  locality. 


ECONOMIC  STRUCTURE  OF  THE  DISTRICT  29 

The  separation  is  undoubtedly  a  good  measure;  there  will  not  be 
so  much  drinking  when  one  has  to  sally  out,  into  the  rain  maybe, 
and  walk  half  a  block  to  a  corner  saloon,  as  there  will  be  when  it  is 
only  a  step  or  two  from  the  pool-table  to  the  bar  in  the  same  room; 
nor  will  there  be  so  much  playing  for  the  drinks.  Partly  for  these 
reasons,  no  doubt,  the  pool- rooms  of  the  lodging  district  are  as  a  rule 
quiet  and  inoffensive,  and  undoubtedly  afford  welcome  relief  to 
many  a  male  lodger  from  weary  evening  hours  in  which  he  does 
not  know  what  to  do  with  himself.  At  the  same  time,  while  "2% 
cents  per  cue"  does  not  seem  an  exorbitant  charge,  the  patron  of 
the  place  can  easily  make  away  with  money  in  the  course  of  an  even- 
ing, or  of  several  evenings  a  week,  which  a  rational  economy  would 
demand  for  expenditure  in  other  directions.  In  fact,  it  is  perhaps 
a  general  criticism  on  the  lodger  or  the  unmarried  mercantile  class 
that  the  men  (not  the  women)  spend  a  disproportionate  share  of 
their  income  for  amusement.  This  is  no  doubt  natural,  consider- 
ing the  humdrum  character  of  their  daily  work  and  life,  their  some- 
what limited  field  of  interests,  their  non-acquaintance  with  the 
higher  standards  of  art  and  literature  and  drama,  and  their  gen- 
eral lack  of  knowledge  where  to  find  in  the  city,  full  as  it  is  of  oppor- 
tunities, chance  for  better  amusement  and  more  cultivated  avoca- 
tions than  standing  about  a  billiard-table  and  puffing  at  a  5-cent 
Cremo,  or  lovingly  breathing  forth  the  fragrant  smoke  of  a  Turkish 
Trophy. 

The  intersections  of  Dover  and  Washington,  and  of  Washing- 
ton and  Northampton  streets  are  distinguished  by  the  number  of 
pool-rooms  and  saloons  there  located.  At  both  these  corners  there 
is  an  elevated  railroad  station,  and  at  both  many  surface-car  lines 
intersect.  This  undoubtedly  makes  them  good  locations  for  saloons 
and  pool- room  trade.  The  saloons  are  without  exception  near  tene- 
ment-house districts,  upon  which  they  probably  depend  in  the  main 
for  patronage.  Certain  hotels  in  the  district,  however,  are  provided 
with  bars,  which  are  frequented  by  the  more  "sporty"  type  of 
lodger.  The  row  of  saloons  on  Dover  Street  is  more  in  the  district 
than  of  it.  These  places  cater  to  the  tenement-house  population  in 
the  compact  blocks  just  below  Dover  Street.  Car-lines  converge 
upon  this  section  through  Washington  and  Tremont  streets  from 
downtown  and  from  Roxbury,  through  Berkeley  Street  from  Cam- 


30  THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

bridge  and  the  West  End,  and  through  Dover  Street  from  South 
Boston,  and  the  saloons  are  situated  where  the  laborer  on  his  way 
to  and  from  his  work  must  pass  them.  The  same  is  true  of  the 
Northampton  Street  group. 

The  liquor- stores  supply  the  wants  of  a  somewhat  different  class  of 
customers.  They  carry  a  full  line  of  beers,  whiskies,  wines,  and  other 
liquors  —  for  the  most  part  bottled  goods  —  besides  more  or  less 
elaborate  stocks  of  fancy  light  groceries  for  which  with  liquor  there 
is  a  joint  demand.  There  is  little  doubt  that  these  stores  are  patron- 
ized to  a  great  extent,  though  not  exclusively,  by  a  clientele  which 
is  also  in  one  way  or  another  closely  connected  with  the  divers  forms 
of  prostitution  which  exist  in  the  district.  Some  of  them  are  clean, 
well-ordered,  and  attractive  in  appearance,  the  proprietors  evidently 
recognizing  the  business  expediency  of  these  qualities.  These  latter 
stores  carry  also  the  higher  grades  of  groceries. 

One  hotel  during  the  summer  conducts  a  beer-garden,  which 
does  a  fairly  good  business  and  attracts  a  characteristic  patronage. 
It  is  situated  in  the  northern  part  of  the  district  near  some  of  the 
poorer  and  "shadier"  lodging-house  streets,  and  within  conven- 
ient distance  of  the  theatres  of  the  section.  In  Boston  such  resorts 
are  almost  sure  to  be  places  of  assignation,  openly  or  secretly.  The 
law  that  no  liquor  shall  be  sold  after  eleven  o'clock  p.  M.  is  rigidly 
observed  both  here  and  in  the  saloons,  which  no  doubt  does  some- 
thing to  prevent  the  "all-night  living"  characteristic  of  New  York 
and  Chicago. 

In  the  dance-halls,  however,  of  which  there  are  several  in  the  dis- 
trict, merriment  may  continue  till  well  toward  morning.  Dances 
begin  at  eight  o'clock  and  last  till  two  A.  M.  or  later.  It  is  not  un- 
common for  young  men  and  women  to  dance  these  hours  nearly 
every  night  and  work  all  day  betweentimes.  What  the  effect  must 
be  on  their  labor  efficiency  is  evident.  But  we  cannot  pass  any  whole- 
sale condemnation  on  the  dance-halls,  any  more  than  we  can  on 
the  saloon.  They  have  a  function  to  perform.  The  fact  that  they 
perform  it  ill,  or  that  it  is  distorted  into  excesses,  is  another  thing. 
Change  from  work,  amusement  and  relaxation,  gratification  of  the 
social  and  gregarious  instincts,  if  not  had  in  one  form  will  be  sought 
in  another.  It  devolves  upon  the  social  director  not  to  deprive  peo- 
ple of  opportunity  for  these  things,  but  to  change  the  conditions 


ECONOMIC  STRUCTURE  OF  THE  DISTRICT  31 

under  which  such  instincts  are  satisfied,  to  see  that  moderation  takes 
the  place  of  excess,  to  see  that  healthy  social  processes  are  substi- 
tuted for  pathological  ones.  Probably  he  can  abolish  neither  the 
saloon  nor  the  public  dance-hall  until  he  provides  a  worthier  sub- 
stitute. Meanwhile  much  can  be  done  toward  mitigating  the  evils 
of  both.  In  Boston  dance-halls  are  not  run  in  connection  with  sa- 
loons, a  practice  which  is  a  curse  to  Chicago  and  Cleveland  and 
doubtless  many  other  cities.  By  far  the  larger  portion  of  the  habi- 
tue's of  the  club-dances  and  public  dances  in  the  halls  of  the  South 
End  come  from  the  tenements,  rather  than  the  lodging-houses,  but 
the  halls  are  in  the  lodging-house  district,  a  part  of  the  environment 
of  the  lodger,  either  an  open  opportunity  to  him  of  amusement,  or 
one  of  many  reminders  of  his  isolation  from  social  companionship 
which  others  may  enjoy,  as  the  case  may  be. 

There  are  four  theatres  in  the  district,  three  on  Washington  Street 
and  one  at  Castle  Square.  All  but  the  Castle  Square  Theatre  pro- 
duce cheap  melodrama  or  vaudeville.  In  the  summer  of  1905,  how- 
ever, one  of  the  Washington  Street  houses  was  producing  Yiddish 
drama.  The  Castle  Square  Theatre,  under  good  management,  with 
a  hard-working  stock-company,  and  producing  standard  plays, 
enjoys  a  full  patronage,  and  must  be  reckoned  as  one  of  the  social 
forces,  in  the  main  for  good,  within  the  district. 

The  third  group  of  establishments  includes  the  tailor-shops  and 
laundries.  Seventy  tailoring-establishments  look  after  the  raiment 
of  the  male  lodgers,  and  such  of  the  women  as  can  afford  to  patron- 
ize a  "ladies'  tailor."  Like  the  other  shops  the  tailors  depend  mainly 
on  the  lodgers  for  support.  They  attract  attention  by  mere  force 
of  numbers.  The  shops  are  small,  cheap,  often  dirty,  and  in  many 
cases  are  little  more  than  places  for  repairing  and  pressing  gar- 
ments. Sometimes  the  suggestive  sign  "Dress-Suits  to  Let"  is  seen. 
"Pressing  neatly  done,"  "Garments  turned,  repairing  done,"  etc., 
are  characteristic  legends.  Prices  are  low;  trousers  are  pressed 
for  ten  or  fifteen  cents,  a  suit  sponged  and  pressed  for  fifty  or 
seventy-five  cents,  and  suits  sold  for  as  low  as  twelve  dollars.  Some 
of  the  ladies'  tailoring-shops  are  patronized  by  a  good  grade  of 
customers  from  without.  One  customer  brings  another,  the  advan- 
tage being  that  the  prices  charged  are  lower  than  on  Boylston  and 
other  fashionable  shopping  streets,  a  fact  due  to  smaller  rent  and 


32  THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

less  desirable  quarters  and  situation.  After  a  time  these  tailors 
may  acquire  such  custom  as  to  warrant  their  moving  over  to  the 
more  fashionable  locations,  as  several  in  recent  years  have  done. 

Next  to  the  eating-establishments,  the  laundries  occupy  the  most 
prominent  place  on  the  map.  Seemingly  every  other  corner  is  occu- 
pied by  a  Chinese  laundry.  To  the  man  or  woman  interested  in 
the  variegated  phases  of  human  existence,  the  life  and  industry 
which  shows  itself  superficially  through  the  broad  windows  of  these 
Chinese  shops  will  be  not  without  its  interest.  These  Chinamen 
are  said  to  be  the  riffraff  and  outcasts  of  their  own  race;  they  are 
a  class  of  men  singularly  slight  of  stature  and  to  all  appearances 
weak  in  physique,  but  they  are  the  embodiment  of  patience  and 
industriousness.  It  is  hardly  possible  to  pass  by  a  Chinese  laundry 
shop  so  late  at  night  as  not  to  see  some  of  its  inmates  diligently  at 
work.  In  a  description  of  the  lodging-house  district  they  could  not 
be  omitted;  for  they  are  not  only  in  the  district,  but  they  have 
a  part  to  play  in  the  life  and  experiences  of  the  lodger. 

Concerned  with  the  health  of  the  people  are  the  doctors  and  drug- 
stores. There  are  about  175  physicians  in  the  district,  some  of  them 
among  the  best  in  the  city  and  a  few  taking  rank  among  the  most 
disreputable  quacks  and  criminal  operators. 

The  drug-stores,  as  in  any  district,  occupy  an  important  place 
among  the  local  mercantile  establishments.  The  exact  nature  of 
their  trade  is  problematic.  It  is  doubtful  if  many  of  them  could  live 
but  for  their  cigar,  soda,  and  candy  sales.  The  patent  medicine 
business  is  killed  by  the  department  stores  and  the  cut-price  drug- 
stores. 

Mention  should  be  made  of  the  considerable  number  of  fakes 
and  social  parasites  that  are  scattered  up  and  down  Tremont  Street, 
Shawmut  Avenue,  and  Washington  Street.  Just  why  so  many  palm- 
ists, card-readers,  business  mediums,  trance-artists,  astrologers, 
and  the  like  should  congregate  in  the  South  End,  would  be  hard 
to  say,  but  they  are  there  and  constitute  an  unpleasant  feature  of 
the  district.  They  have  rooms  in  the  lodging-houses  where  they  ply 
their  trade.  Some  are  no  doubt  conducting  places  of  prostitution 
in  disguise. 

Among  the  miscellaneous  industries  supported  by  local  patron- 
age are  upholstering-shops,  tin  and  hardware  stores,  painters'  and 


ECONOMIC  STRUCTURE  OF   THE  DISTRICT  33 

plumbers'  establishments,  new  and  second-hand  furniture  stores, 
many  of  which  curse  the  district  with  sales  on  the  installment  plan, 
notion  and  small  dry-goods  stores,  small  jewelry-shops,  and  "gent's" 
(never  "gentleman's"  or  "men's")  furnishing-stores. 

Such  is  the  variety  of  business  enterprise  which  gives  life  and 
color  to  the  district.  The  localization  of  industry  catering  to  a  spe- 
cific and  characteristic  population  group  is  a  fine  example  of  the 
value  of  location  in  the  business  world.  It  is  also  the  salvation  of 
real-estate  values  on  the  main  streets,  which  is  of  more  than  theo- 
retical importance.  It  is  of  interest  to  us,  however,  chiefly  because 
in  some  suggestive  external  respects  it  mirrors  the  life  of  the  lodger. 
Without  some  idea  of  the  environment  in  which  the  lodger  lives, 
we  can  gain  but  an  imperfect  idea  of  his  economic  and  social  con- 
dition. The  lodging-house  itself,  to  which  we  now  turn,  constitutes 
the  intimate  essence  of  this  environment. 


CHAPTER   V 

THE   HOUSE   ITSELF 

As  shown  in  Chart  v,  the  rooms  of  the  Boston  lodging-house  are 
divided  into  "square"  and  "side."  In  other  cities  the  side  rooms  are 
commonly  known  as  hall  bedrooms.  Both  square  and  side  rooms 
are  designated  as  "front"  and  "rear"  according  to  their  position 
in  the  house.  In  the  basement  are  the  dining-room  and  kitchen, 
sometimes  let  together  to  a  couple  for  housekeeping  or  to  a  base- 
ment dining-room  proprietor,  sometimes  retained  as  living-rooms 
by  the  landlady  herself.  On  the  first  floor  are  the  two  parlors, 
front  and  rear,  and  generally  a  small  rear  side  room.  The 
parlors  are  high-ceiled,  with  the  large  amount  of  stucco-work  which 
characterizes  the  houses  built  fifty  years  ago.  They  have  elaborate 
white  marble  mantelpieces,  imported  at  some  expense  when  the 
houses  were  built,  and  some  of  them  still  contain  fine  large  mirrors 
which  have  come  down  to  the  lodging-house  contingent  from  the 
palmy  days  of  the  past.  The  front  parlor  is  so  large  and  high  that 
it  is  rarely  a  pleasant  room,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  the  best  furni- 
ture of  the  house  generally  goes  into  it  in  an  effort  to  make  it  the 
"  show  room"  and  to  get  a  high  rent  for  it.  The  rear  parlor  is  smaller 
and  easier  to  rent.  The  two  parlors  are  connected  by  sliding-doors, 
which  are  sometimes  hidden  by  tapestry  which  makes  an  impro- 
vised closet. 

On  the  second  floor  are  the  bath-room,  a  front  side  room,  and 
two  large  square  rooms,  each  of  which  has  a  spacious  closet  and 
running  hot  and  cold  water.  On  the  third  floor  are  two  square  and 
two  side  rooms,  and  on  the  fourth  two  square  and  two  side  rooms, 
or  sometimes  only  two  square  rooms.  All  the  square  rooms  below 
the  fourth  floor  are  heated,  but  generally  none  of  the  side.  The  heat 
is  furnace  heat,  except  in  a  few  instances  where  steam  or  hot  water 
has  been  installed,  and  is  often  inadequate.  In  general  the  houses 
are  without  fire-escapes. 


CHART  V. 

Plans  of  First  and  Second  Floor  of  the  Typical  Lodging-House. 


THE  HOUSE  ITSELF  35 

The  furniture  of  the  typical  side  room  is  necessarily  scant.  There 
is  not  much  room  for  it.  It  consists  ordinarily  of  a  single  bed  or 
couch,  a  small  dresser,  a  chair,  perhaps  a  small  wardrobe,  and  a 
picture  or  two.  With  the  square  room  somewhat  more  liberality 
is  shown.  The  bed  is  iron,  either  single  or  double,  or  some  sort  of 
a  folding  contrivance,  often  big,  unwieldly,  and  unsightly.  Carpets 
are  either  of  ingrain  or  some  form  of  brussels,  more  generally  the 
latter,  and  generally  much  worn  and  covered  by  cheap  rugs  of  out- 
rageous combinations  of  color  and  pattern.  A  small  table  or  two, 
a  dresser,  various  kinds  of  chairs,  and  some  cheap  pictures  complete 
the  equipment.  The  windows  are  supplied  with  shades  and  encum- 
bered with  lace  or  muslin  curtains.  The  furniture  is  for  the  most 
part  old,  having  come  down  from  the  indefinite  past,  through  many 
vicissitudes  of  ownership  and  mortgage  foreclosure.  Some  houses, 
however,  in  the  better  sections,  have  been  supplied  with  new  fur- 
niture of  modern  type.  In  a  comparatively  few  houses  the  old  plush 
armchairs  and  rockers  have  been  discarded  and  their  place  filled 
with  comfortable  Morris  chairs  and  willow  or  grass  rockers;  the 
marble-topped  centre-tables  have  given  way  to  neat  weathered  oak, 
the  wooden  folding-beds  to  iron,  and  the  thick  microbe-filled  car- 
pets to  clean,  cool,  and  attractive  mattings  and  rugs.  There  is  even 
an  improvement  in  the  pictures.  The  chances  are  that  such  a  house 
will  have  a  public  parlor,  and  that  its  lodgers  will  know  something 
of  each  other.  It  is  decidedly  more  homelike  than  the  ordinary 
type. 

The  lodging-house,  like  the  tenement,  has  a  sanitary  problem, 
but  one  far  less  pressing  and  of  a  different  nature.  It  is  a  question 
whether  the  unsanitary  conditions  of  the  tenement  do  not  result, 
in  the  long  run,  perhaps  quite  as  much  from  the  character  of  its 
inhabitants  as  from  the  nature  of  the  tenement  itself.  In  the  lodg- 
ing-house, on  the  other  hand,  the  problem  comes  mainly  from  the 
house  and  its  unsuitability  for  the  purposes  to  which  it  is  put. 

The  great  sanitary  deficiency  of  the  lodging-house,  almost  with- 
out exception,  is  the  lack  of  proper  bathing  facilities.  There  is 
almost  never  more  than  one  bath-room  in  a  house,  whether  the  house 
has  nine  rooms  or  eighteen,  and  six  lodgers  or  twenty.  It  is  gen- 
erally on  the  second  floor,  taking  the  place  of  a  rear  side  room.  When 
so  situated  it  is  well  lighted  and  can  be  well  ventilated.  Sometimes, 


36          THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

however,  in  houses  which  deviate  from  the  general  plan,  it  is  an 
inner  room,  practically  without  light,  and  devoid  of  outside  venti- 
lation. The  tub,  except  in  the  very  best  houses,  which  have  put  in 
modern  plumbing,  is  of  tin  or  copper,  oftentimes  rusty,  corroded, 
and  dirty.  The  brass  faucets  are  generally  in  the  same  state,  and 
the  washbowl  while  perhaps  not  actually  unclean  has  the  appear- 
ance of  being  so,  owing  to  the  long  use  of  the  marble.  In  general 
the  whole  room  has  an  unattractive  appearance.  The  towel  supply 
is  rarely  adequate  to  the  needs  of  the  house.  Hot  water  is  a  rare 
commodity,  and  the  lodger  is  supposed  to  use  it  sparingly  and  with 
circumspection,  that  his  fellow  lodgers  may  not  be  cheated  from 
their  meagre  share.  During  the  warm  months  of  the  spring,  sum- 
mer, and  autumn,  there  are  weeks  together,  in  many  houses,  when 
not  a  drop  of  hot  water  goes  through  the  pipes.  The  customary 
plan,  however,  in  the  summer  months,  is  to  supply  hot  water  once 
or  twice  a  week,  say  on  Saturdays  and  Sundays.  In  many  cases 
the  bath-room  looks  like  a  general  store-room  for  dirty  linen,  brooms, 
and  other  household  utensils. 

It  is  clear  that  one  bath-room  for  a  dozen  to  a  score  of  persons 
is  not  enough.  In  fact,  many  of  the  smaller  houses  on  out-of-the- 
way  streets  have  no  bath-rooms  at  all.  There  should  certainly  be 
two  bath-rooms  in  every  house,  one  on  the  second,  the  other  on  the 
third  floor.  If  the  bathing  facilities  were  better,  lodgers  might  ac- 
quire what  as  a  rule  they  have  not  at  present  —  the  habit  of  taking 
an  invigorating  plunge  every  morning. 

The  water-closets  are  frequently  old-fashioned,  with  a  scant  flush- 
ing supply.  In  many  instances  this  undoubtedly  makes  them  a  nui- 
sance, and  a  menace  to  the  health  of  the  occupants  of  the  house. 
Open  plumbing  is  a  rarity;  and  numerous  are  the  complaints  of 
landladies  about  the  trouble  and  expense  they  are  put  to  by  care- 
less or  ignorant  lodgers. 

The  houses  are  often  damp,  owing  to  the  water  in  the  cellars  and 
to  insufficient  heat.  The  furnace  fires  are  allowed  to  die  down  dur- 
ing the  day  when  the  lodgers  are  nearly  all  out,  and  are  started  up 
toward  evening  in  time  to  get  the  rooms  heated  before  their  return. 
Ventilation  is  poor.  The  lodger  is  no  exception  to  the  rule  that 
human  beings  taken  generally  are  afraid  of  fresh  air,  especially  at 
night.  The  old  plush  furniture,  the  hangings,  rugs,  and  carpets  serve  to 


THE  HOUSE  ITSELF  37 

catch  and  hold  the  dust  with  which  the  air  of  the  South  End  is  well 
freighted  at  nearly  all  seasons  of  the  year.  The  great  amount  of  traffic 
on  the  main  streets,  and  the  macadam  pavements  on  the  side  streets 
produce  so  much  dirt  and  dust  that  it  is  impossible  to  keep  a  room 
free  from  it.  It  blows  through  streets  and  alleys,  swirls  up  the  sides 
of  buildings,  and  settles  in  attic  windows  as  much  as  in  parlors  and 
basements.  The  houses  are  not  all  free  from  vermin;  the  first  thing 
the  sophisticated  lodger  does  in  looking  over  a  new  room  is  to  ex- 
amine the  bed  very  carefully.  There  are  some  houses  in  the  South 
End  which  are  pleasing  to  enter  because  of  their  immaculate  clean- 
liness, where  no  speck  of  dust  shows  on  furniture  or  woodwork, 
and  linen  and  muslin  window  draperies  shine  white  and  fresh.  Such 
houses  are,  unfortunately,  exceptions;  in  most  of  them  one  will  find 
that  the  landlady  has  daughters  or  other  persons  to  help  her  in  the 
work  of  the  house.  Again  there  are  houses  upon  the  best  streets 
the  uncleanliness  of  which  can  scarcely  be  described,  from  the 
slatternly  dress  of  the  landlady  to  the  greasy  stairs  and  the  soiled 
and  ragged  bedspreads. 


CHAPTER  VI 

THE  CHANGE  FROM  BOARDING  TO  LODGING 

LITTLE  has  been  said  of  the  boarding-house,  because  that  institu- 
tion is  practically  non-existent  in  Boston.  Certain  statistics  are 
available  which  go  to  show  a  pronounced  change  from  boarding- 
houses  to  lodging-houses.  Certain  other  data,  also,  give  us  the  pro- 
portion of  boarding-  and  lodging-houses  to  the  total  population  of 
the  city,  thus  showing  something  of  the  relative  importance  of  the 
lodging-house  problem  in  various  cities.  Let  us  first  examine  the 
statistics  bearing  on  the  ratio  of  boarding-  and  lodging-houses  to 
total  population,  which  is  shown  in  the  following  table: 

TABLE  8.    BOARDING-  AND  LODGING-HOUSE  KEEPERS  IN  THE  TEN 
LARGEST  CITIES,  IQOO1 

M<G2 
I  |1- 

•*•*  n  _C    . 

cti  crj     i     _, 

^—  o   tio  ~ 

a.          -^.s-B 

<R  OH  *S  "5  "3 


1 

1 

1 

H 

<5 

H 

•S~  ££ 

New  York 

474 

2,813 

3,287 

3,437,202 

1,045  persons 

Chicago 

196 

2,151 

2,347 

1,698,575 

723 

Philadelphia 

208 

i,357 

I,565 

1,293,697 

826 

St.  Louis 

156 

1,084 

1,240 

575,238 

463 

Boston 

148 

1,423 

i,57i 

560,892 

357 

Baltimore 

47 

540 

587 

508,957 

867 

Cleveland 

4i 

429 

470 

381,768 

812 

Buffalo 

30 

359 

389 

352,387 

905 

San  Francisco 

297 

M73 

1,470 

342,782 

233 

Cincinnati 

26 

3X9 

345 

325,902 

945 

1  Compiled  from  the  Twelfth  Census,  Pop.,  part  ii,  Table  94. 

2  Twelfth  Census,  Pop.,  part  i,  p.  Ixix. 

The  actual  number  of  houses  in  all  the  cities  would  be  slightly  larger  than  is  indi- 
cated in  the  table,  since  some  persons  keep  more  than  one  house. 


THE  CHANGE  FROM  BOARDING   TO  LODGING         39 

The  table  shows  at  once  that,  with  the  exception  of  San  Francisco, 
Boston  has  more  lodging-  and  boarding-houses  (almost  entirely 
lodging-houses)  in  proportion  to  its  population  than  any  other 
large  city  in  the  country.  There  are  peculiar  conditions  giving  San 
Francisco  a  very  high  ratio  of  boarding-  and  lodging-houses. 

A  student  of  social  conditions  in  San  Francisco  states  them  as 
following:  (i)  "The  preponderance  of  unmarried  men  and  trans- 
ients in  San  Francisco.  San  Francisco  is  the  distributing-point  for 
labor,  etc.,  for  the  whole  Pacific  Coast,  and  many  young  men 
come  here  for  curiosity  and  pleasure.  ...  It  is  variously  esti- 
mated that  there  are  from  10,000  to  25,000  transients  during  the 
rainy  season,  i.  e.,  December  to  March.  (2)  Labor  in  California 
is  peculiarly  intermittent  on  account  of  the  specialization  of  crops, 
and  our  men  make  so  much  money  in  harvest- time  that  they  do 
not  need  to  work  in  the  winter.  On  the  other  hand  the  price  of 
lodgings  and  of  board  is  very  cheap  in  San  Francisco,  there  being 
many  lo-cent  and  2o-cent  lodging-houses  and  restaurants.  The 
winters  are  so  mild  that  little  heating  is  required  for  rooms,  and 
clothing  is  not  expensive.  So  it  is  a  gregarious  habit  of  the  Cali- 
fornia workingmen  to  flock  to  San  Francisco,  and  although  the 
individuals  are  constantly  shifting,  there  are  always  a  large  number 
in  the  city."  * 

It  is  a  far  cry  from  the  233  persons  to  a  house  in  San  Francisco, 
or  the  357  in  Boston,  to  the  1045  m  New  York.  San  Francisco, 
Boston,  and  St.  Louis  stand  in  a  class  by  themselves,  with  a  very 
high  ratio  of  boarding-  and  lodging-houses. 

A  comparison  of  the  number  of  boarding-  and  lodging-houses 
relative  to  population  at  different  censuses  gives  some  indication  of 
the  relative  number  of  persons  living  in  such  houses  at  different 
dates.  Unfortunately  the  necessary  data  are  not  available  in 
the  Census  of  1890,  but  from  that  of  1880  we  have  the  following 
table: 

1  Mr.  Dane  Coolidge,  of  the  South  Park  Settlement,  in  a  letter  which  left  San  Fran- 
cisco the  day  before  the  earthquake.  It  might  be  suggested  in  this  connection  that 
San  Francisco  now  has  an  opportunity  to  erect  buildings  adapted  from  a  scientific, 
economic,  and  sanitary  point  of  view  to  the  needs  of  the  great  lodger  class. 


40          THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

i 
TABLE  9.    BOARDING-  AND  LODGING-HOUSE  KEEPERS  IN  THE  TEN 

LARGEST  CITIES,    1880  x 

O  "S    C  """  *' 

&  Oi  'CV  tfl    i_i 

1 

(X 

ss  S. 


^*  -       "~*    0)  _O 

cd 


» 

c8 

i 

3 

3 

.2  f 

'rt  60 

S 

H 

H 

386 

983 

1,369 

1,206,299 

1,104 

32 

186 

218 

566,663 

i43 

548 

691 

503,195 

728 

1  08 

533 

641 

847,170 

1,321 

142 

314 

456 

35°,5l8 

768 

149 

452 

601 

362,839 

604 

45 

125 

170 

332,313 

i,955 

36 

"3 

149 

160,146 

1,075 

47 

79 

126 

i55,i34 

1,231 

184 

291 

475 

233,959 

492 

44 

168 

212 

255,139 

1,203 

New  York 

Brooklyn 

Chicago 

Philadelphia 

St.  Louis 

Boston 

Baltimore 

Cleveland 

Buffalo 

San  Francisco 

Cincinnati 

Comparison  of  this  table  with  that  for  1900  reveals  an  almost 
startling  increase,  during  the  twenty  years,  in  the  number  of  board- 
ing- and  lodging-houses.  The  following  table  arranges  the  cities  in 
order  of  ratio  of  houses  to  population  in  1900,  and  shows  the  great 
increase  that  has  taken  place  in  nearly  every  instance. 

TABLE  10.  RATIO  OF  BOARDING-  AND  LODGING-HOUSE  KEEPERS  TO 
TOTAL  POPULATION,  1880  AND  I9CX3 

1880.  1900.  Difference. 

San  Francisco  492  233  259 

Boston  604  357  247 

St.  Louis  768  463  305 

Chicago  728  723  5 

Cleveland  I,I75  612  263 

Philadelphia  1,321  826  495 

Baltimore  1.955  867  1,088 

Buffalo  1,231  905  326 

Cincinnati  1,203  945  258 

New  York  1,104  1,045  59 

1  Compiled  from  the  Tenth  Census,  volume  on  population. 


THE  CHANGE  FROM  BOARDING  TO  LODGING         41 

Chicago  and  New  York  show  practically  no  increase;  Balti- 
more, on  the  other  hand,  more  than  doubles  its  ratio,  and  increases 
the  absolute  number  of  her  boarding-  and  lodging-houses  nearly 
three  and  one  half  times.  San  Francisco,  Boston,  and  St.  Louis 
also  show  substantially  a  doubling  of  their  ratios.  It  seems  impos- 
sible to  escape  the  conclusion  that  the  lodging-  and  the  boarding- 
houses  have  been  becoming  rapidly  an  increasingly  important  form 
of  abode  in  American  cities.1 

Table  1 1  gives  the  statistics  of  boarding-  and  lodging-house  keepers 
for  eight  Massachusetts  cities.  The  highest  ratio  is  shown  by  Law- 
rence, the  lowest  by  Fall  River,  both  great  textile  factory  towns. 

TABLE  n.  BOARDING-  AND  LODGING-HOUSE  KEEPERS,  MASSACHU- 
SETTS CITIES,  1900 

C  -T1    bf)  i    r^ 

i 


1 

a 


~~°2 


J; 

a 

a 

3 

•%  i  % 

rt 

<L> 

"5 

o 

oj  ^^  ^ 

S 

£ 

H 

H 

P4  .S  js 

148 

1,423 

i,54i 

560,892 

357 

23 

155 

178 

118,421 

665 

22 

72 

94 

104,963 

1,115 

67 

185 

252 

94,969 

377 

45 

134 

179 

68,513 

511 

16 

83 

99 

62,442 

630 

49 

128 

177 

62,559 

352 

13 

105 

118 

62,059 

525 

Boston 

Worcester 

Fall  River 

Lowell 

Lynn 

New  Bedford 

Lawrence 

Springfield 

So  much  for  boarding-  and  lodging-houses.  Their  number  gives 
some  idea  of  the  number  of  boarders  and  lodgers,  but  only  indi- 
rectly. Unfortunately  the  United  States  Census  gives  no  statistics 
for  boarders  and  lodgers.  We  cannot  compare,  therefore,  Boston 
with  other  large  cities  in  this  respect,  —  a  fact  to  be  regretted,  since 

1  Care  has  been  taken  to  ascertain  that  there  was  no  change  in  the  census  defini- 
tion of  "boarding-  and  lodging-house  keepers"  between  1880  and  1900.  The 
Census  Office  "has  simply  tabulated  from  the  schedules  of  the  enumerators  the 
number  of  persons  returned  by  them,  with  these  occupations.  No  special  instruc- 
tions, or  definition  of  these  occupations,  was  furnished  the  enumerators  in  1880, 
1890,  or  1900." 


42  THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

such  comparison  would  throw  considerable  light  on  the  relative 
numbers  of  persons  in  different  cities  who  are  condemned  to  lodging- 
or  boarding-house  life,  —  certainly  no  small  percentage  in  a  great 
city  like  New  York  or  Chicago.  We  can,  however,  compare  Boston 
with  other  cities  in  Massachusetts,  seven  of  which,  excluding  the 
immediate  suburbs  of  Boston,  have  a  population  of  over  50,000 
each.  Data  for  this  comparison  have  been  found  in  the  Massa- 
chusetts State  Censuses  for  1885  and  1895,  in  the  tables  showing 
"relation  to  head  of  family." 

Turning  to  the  last  column  of  Table  12,  we  find  that  only  one 
Massachusetts  city  had  a  greater  proportion  of  boarders  and  lodg- 
ers than  Boston.  That  was  Lowell,  with  10,516,  or  12.4  per  cent, 
of  its  total  population,  —  a  high  percentage  due  probably  to  the 
young  men  and  women  engaged  in  the  textile  industries  there.  Fall 
River  shows  the  lowest  percentage,  5.5,  which  seems  due  to  the  fact 
that  nearly  half  the  population  is  foreign,  and  that  foreigners  marry 
and  go  into  homes  of  their  own,  however  poor,  earlier  than  Ameri- 
cans. 


TABLE  12.    BOARDERS  AND  LODGERS,  CITIES  OF  MASSACHUSETTS 
OF  OVER  50,000  POPULATION,  1895  l 


°  2       ° 

*^  *"" 


o    rt 

bo  o 
-a  A 


1  Compiled  from  Mass.  State  Census,  1895,  vol.  ii,  pp.  554-569. 
*  Idem,  vol.  i,  p.  50. 


and 
ula- 


| 

_-       <W 

&  bo 

|| 

en 

M 

-J    C    4J 
r*    ^    bO 

*G 

1 

—  = 

•*-• 

1 

| 
-f 

l|l 

v  c"2 
0     ,2 

C   en 

4)    I- 

o" 

o  2 

Q 

o 

<U   *"*  ^^ 

4J     *"*      c" 

flj  "^ 

PH 

H  £ 

PQ 

i-l 

PH  £    rt 

PH  2   a 

PH  J2  '4 

Boston 

496,920 

54,422 

9,496 

44,926 

17.4 

82.6 

IO-9 

Worcester 

98,767 

6,667 

3,58i 

3,086 

53-7 

46.3 

6-5 

Fall  River 

89,203 

4,968 

4,286 

682 

86.0 

14.0 

5-5 

Lowell 

84,367 

10,516 

5,132 

5,384 

48.8 

51.2 

12.4 

Lynn 

62,354 

5,999 

2,578 

3,421 

43-o 

57-o 

9-6 

New  Bedford 

55,251 

3,444 

2,672 

777 

77-6 

22.4 

6.2 

Lawrence 

52,l64 

5,654 

3,499 

2,155 

62.0 

38.0 

10.6 

Springfield 

51,522 

3,904 

1,900 

2,004 

49-7 

50-3 

7-5 

THE  CHANGE  FROM  BOARDING  TO  LODGING 


43 


TABLE   13.  —  BOARDERS  AND  LODGERS,  EIGHT  CITIES  OF  MAS- 
SACHUSETTS, 1885  l 


i 

2  2 

o 

11 

2  2 

D 

2f 

§3 

in    O, 

Ja 

°  £ 

0"*s 

•^  £ 

-"o 

k 

.2 

11 

to 

«*  8  fii 

O     4>     rA 

•    C     CJ 

•g   B    M 

ft.-Z 

Sa 

M 

c-o 

__    c 

u 

C    3-Q 
0    C.l 

g  2 

3 

*••?    « 

^, 

u 

t  ^^ 

CJ    U 

0, 
O 

O     C/3 

0 

2 

u  15  >u 
o  -e  c 

u    cS  -o 

^  "X  c 

fe*s  ! 

PH 

H  <B 

W 

PH  2  rt 

PH  2  cd 

Pu  ,2  v 

Boston 

390,393 

40,218 

15,938 

24,280 

39-6 

60.4 

10.3 

Worcester 

68,389 

4,573 

3,800 

773 

83-1 

16.9 

6.6 

Fall  River 

56,870 

2,908 

2,706 

202 

93-o 

7-0 

5.1 

Lowell 

64,107 

8,604 

4,503 

4,101 

52-3 

47-7 

13-4 

Lynn 

45,867 

4,969 

3,268 

1,701 

6^.8 

34-2 

10.8 

New  Bedford 

33,393 

2,077 

1,772 

305 

85.3 

14-7 

6.2 

Lawrence 

38,862 

3,610 

2,827 

783 

78.3 

21.7 

9-3 

Springfield 

37,575 

2,670 

1,482 

1,188 

55-5 

44-5 

7-1 

It  would  be  highly  interesting  could  we  ascertain  whether  or 
not  there  is  an  increasing  proportion  of  boarders  and  lodgers  to 
total  population.  In  1885  (Table  13)  we  find  the  percentages  essen- 
tially the  same  as  in  1895  for  Massachusetts  cities,  showing  that 
no  great  change  occurred.  Statistics  for  the  great  cities  of  the  country 
might  show  different  results.  Be  this  as  it  may,  the  fact  remains 
that  while  the  ratio  to  population  has  undergone  little  change,  the 
absolute  number  of  boarding-  and  lodging-houses  has  increased  at 
equal  pace  with  population. 

We  come  now  to  the  important  questions  of  the  number  of  lodgers 
relatively  to  the  number  of  boarders,  and  to  the  change  from  board- 
ing-houses to  lodging-houses  which  has  been  for  some  time  taking 
place  and  is  still  going  on. 

We  will  consider  first  the  total  number  of  boarders  and  lodgers. 
For  Massachusetts  cities  the  data  are  given  in  Table  12.  Boston  is 
the  only  city  in  which  the  percentage  of  lodgers  far  exceeds  that  of 
the  boarders.  (See  columns  5  and  6.)  In  1895,  82.6  per  cent,  of  the 
boarding  and  lodging  class  of  Boston  were  lodgers;  and  it  is  safe 
to  say  that  to-day  the  percentage  would  be  even  greater.  Only  three 
other  Massachusetts  cities  show  even  a  slight  excess  of  lodgers  over 

1  Mass.  State  Census,  1885,  vol.  i,  pp.  448-477.  2  Idem,  vol.  i,  p.  xxv. 


44          THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

boarders,  —  Lowell,  Lynn,  and  Springfield.  In  Worcester,  Fall 
River,  New  Bedford,  and  Lawrence,  the  boarders  are  in  excess. 
Fall  River  has  the  largest  proportion  of  boarders,  86  per  cent. 
The  fact  that  the  boarding  and  lodging  class  in  Boston  is  over 
four  fifths  lodgers  is  of  the  utmost  importance.  It  shows  that 
Boston  holds  a  unique  position,  as  far  as  Massachusetts  cities  are 
concerned.  It  means,  moreover,  that  whatever  problem  there  is, 
economic,  social,  or  moral,  is  in  Boston  one  of  lodging-  and  not  of 
boarding-houses. * 

Statistics  show  also  that  the  percentage  of  lodgers  is  increasing. 
First  as  regards  Boston:  In  1885  (Table  15)  the  boarders  were 
39.6  per  cent,  and  the  lodgers  60.4  per  cent,  of  the  total  number  of 
boarders  and  lodgers,  —  an  excess  of  lodgers  of  20.8  per  cent.  In 
1895  (Table  16),  however,  only  17.4  per  cent,  were  boarders  as 
against  86.2  per  cent,  lodgers,  —  an  excess  of  lodgers  of  68.8  per 
cent.,  compared  with  an  excess  in  1885  of  only  20.8  per  cent.  This 
is  a  striking  change.  But  only  attention  to  the  absolute  numbers 
can  secure  an  adequate  realization  of  the  extent  of  the  transforma- 
tion. Analysis  of  the  figures  for  Boston  in  1885  and  1895  (Tables 
15  and  1 6)  shows  that  not  only  has  the  percentage  of  lodgers  under- 
gone a  great  increase,  but  that  there  has  been  an  astonishingly  rapid 
increase  in  the  absolute  numbers  of  lodgers  and  an  equally  rapid 
decrease  in  the  absolute  numbers  of  boarders.  In  the  ten  years  there 
was  a  gain  of  35.3  per  cent,  in  the  total  number  of  boarders  and 
lodgers;  but  there  was  a  decrease  of  40.4  per  cent,  in  the  number 
of  boarders  and  an  increase  of  86.2  per  cent,  in  the  number  of 
lodgers.2  If  this  change  from  boarding  to  lodging  has  continued 
with  undiminished  activity  during  the  past  ten  years,  for  which  the 
statistics  as  yet  are  unavailable,  there  should  be  at  present  only 
about  5,700  boarders  as  against  a  probable  80,000  or  90,000  lodgers. 
Whether  or  not  this  prove  to  be  the  case,  we  can  perceive  how 

1  In  the  state  as  a  whole  there  were,  in  1895,  195,220  boarders  and  lodgers  (see 
Table  i8),of  whom  51.3  per  cent,  were  boarders  and  48.7  per  cent,  lodgers.  Exclud- 
ing Boston,  however,  the  percentages  for  the  state  are  different:  63.8  per  cent,  board- 
ers and  only  36.2  per  cent,  lodgers,  showing  the  influence  of  the  country  towns, 
where  the  boarding-house  naturally  holds  its  own. 

2  In  1885  the  total  number  of  boarders  and  lodgers  was  40,218,  of  whom  15,938 
were  boarders  and  24,280  lodgers.  In  1895  the  total  number  of  boarders  and  lodgers 
had  risen  to  54,422,  of  whom  only  9,496  were  boarders  and  44,926  lodgers. 


THE  CHANGE  FROM  BOARDING  TO  LODGING         45 

great  the  transformation  has  been  in  the  mode  of  life  of  the  great 
"unattached"  class  with  whom  we  are  dealing. 

Nor  has  the  tendency  to  forsake  the  boarding-  for  the  lodging- 
house  been  confined  to  Boston.  Statistics  are  available  showing 
a  similar  tendency,  though  much  less  pronounced,  in  nearly  every 
large  city  and  town  in  Massachusetts  and  in  the  state  as  a  whole. 
Table  14,  derived  from  columns  5  and  6  of  Tables  12  and  13,  shows 
the  nature  and  extent  of  the  change. 

TABLE  14.  INCREASE  OF  PERCENTAGE  OF  LODGERS,  AND  DECREASE 
OF  PERCENTAGE  OF  BOARDERS  TO  TOTAL  NUMBER  OF  BOARDERS 
AND  LODGERS,  1885  TO  1895 

Boston  22.2 

Worcester  29.4 

Fall  River  7.0 

Lowell  3.5 

Lynn  22.8 

New  Bedford  7.7 

Lawrence  16.3 

Springfield  5.8 

Worcester,  it  is  clear,  has  experienced  the  most  radical  change, 
with  Lynn  and  Boston  close  followers.  For  the  state  as  a  whole, 
30.7  per  cent,  were  lodgers  in  1885,  and  48.7  per  cent,  in  1895,  a 
gain  of  14  per  cent.  Excluding  the  influence  of  Boston,  however, 
there  was  a  gain  of  17.3  per  cent.  (See  Tables  17  and  18.)  The 
change  was  evidently  somewhat  stronger  outside  of  Boston. 

Tables  15,  16,  17,  and  18,  in  the  appendix  to  this  chapter,  show 
in  detail  the  numbers  of  boarders  and  lodgers  for  Boston  and  for 
the  state  as  a  whole,  according  to  sex  and  nationality,  for  1885  and 
1895. 

To  summarize  the  conclusions  so  far  reached  in  this  chapter: 
With  the  single  exception  of  San  Francisco,  Boston  has  more  board- 
ing- and  lodging-houses,  in  proportion  to  population,  than  any  other 
large  American  city.  In  Boston  as  elsewhere  there  has  been  a  strik- 
ing increase  in  the  number  of  such  houses  since  1880.  Almost  u  per 
cent,  of  Boston's  population  in  1895  lived  in  lodging-  or  boarding- 
houses,  a  percentage  exceeded  only  by  Lowell,  among  other  Mas- 
sachusetts cities,  and  equaled  only  by  Lawrence.  While  the  pro- 
portion of  lodging-  and  boarding-houses  to  population  has  increased, 


46          THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

the  ratio  of  boarders  and  lodgers  to  population  has  remained  prac- 
tically constant,  so  far  as  we  can  judge  from  the  only  statistics  avail- 
able, —  those  of  Massachusetts  for  the  decade  1885-1895.  Boarders 
and  lodgers,  while  increasing  at  even  pace  with  population,  have 
nevertheless  not  increased  so  fast  as  the  number  of  boarding-  and 
lodging-houses.  This  may  mean  that  there  was  formerly  insuffi- 
cient accommodation  and  consequent  overcrowding,  or  that  lodg- 
ing- and  boarding-houses  are  becoming  smaller.  In  any  case  it 
almost  certainly  means  a  harder  and  sharper  competition  among 
boarding-  and  lodging-house  keepers  to  secure  a  paying  number 
of  patrons.  There  has  been,  finally,  a  marked  tendency  to  change 
from  boarding-house  life  to  life  in  lodging-houses  and  cafe's.  Here 
Boston  holds  the  unique  position  of  having  a  much  larger  propor- 
tion of  lodgers  than  of  boarders,  while  other  Massachusetts  cities 
have  either  a  very  large  preponderance  of  boarders  over  lodgers  or 
else  about  equal  numbers  of  each.  But  there  is  all  over  Massachu- 
setts, and  doubtless  in  other  states  as  well,  had  we  the  requisite  sta- 
tistics for  judging  it,  a  strong  tendency  to  forsake  boarding  and  turn 
to  the  lodging-house,  and  the  problem  of  the  lodging-house  is  there- 
fore one  of  growing  importance. 

The  passing  of  the  old-time  boarding-house  and  the  rise  of  the 
lodging-house  have  far  more  than  statistical  interest  and  meaning. 
This  movement  has  not  been  without  its  social  and  economic  causes 
and  results,  and  it  is  far  from  impossible  that  it  may  have  had  an 
influence  upon  the  moral  constitution  of  city  communities  out  of 
all  proportion  to  the  attention  hitherto  directed  toward  it,  and  far 
more  subtle  and  insidious  than  many  a  movement  which  has  long 
caused  concern  to  those  actively  interested  in  social  welfare. 

The  characteristics  of  the  old-time  boarding-house  are  too  well 
known  to  need  recounting  here.  With  all  its  shortcomings,  it  will 
be  admitted  that  there  usually  was  in  it  something  of  the  home  ele- 
ment. Boarders  knew  each  other,  they  met  at  table  two  or  three 
times  a  day,  and  lingered  a  few  moments  in  conversation  after 
dinner  in  the  evening.  In  summer  they  gathered  on  the  front  steps 
and  piazzas,  and  in  winter  they  often  played  euchre  and  whist  in 
the  landlady's  parlor.  Congenial  temperaments  had  a  chance  to 
find  each  other.  There  was  a  public  parlor  in  which  guests  were 
received,  and,  in  a  reputable  boarding-house  at  least,  a  girl  would 


THE  CHANGE  FROM  BOARDING  TO  LODGING         47 

not  have  thought  of  taking  a  gentleman  caller  to  her  own  room. 
The  landlady  of  the  good  boarding-house  took  something  of  a  per- 
sonal interest,  even  if  remote,  in  her  boarders,  and  they  often  found 
themselves  becoming  a  part  of  the  family  even  against  their  wills. 
There  was  a  certain  personal  element  in  the  relations  between 
individuals;  no  one  could  be  isolated  and  entirely  shut  up  within 
himself.  Why  have  these  conditions  practically  ceased  to  exist? 
Why  is  there  to-day  scarcely  one  boarding-house  to  a  hundred  lodg- 
ing-houses in  Boston  ?  The  change  in  the  number  and  importance 
of  lodging-houses,  which  has  occurred  in  the  past  twenty-five  years, 
has  not  taken  place  from  pure  chance. 

Conjointly  with  the  advance  of  the  lodging-house  and  the  de- 
cline of  the  boarding-house,  the  cafe*  and  restaurant  business  has 
developed.  In  the  competition  of  the  cafe*  we  find  a  powerful  force 
tending  to  drive  out  of  business  hundreds  of  boarding-house  keepers, 
and  to  reduce  them  to  the  simpler  employment  of  "  taking  in  lodgers." 
The  development  of  the  restaurant  business  has  been  but  a  phase 
of  the  general  concentration  and  sharper  definition  of  economic 
function  which  characterized  the  last  third  of  the  nineteenth  cen- 
tury. In  place  of  the  old-time  boarding-house  keepers  with  their 
unbusinesslike  methods,  a  class  of  men  and  women  has  sprung  up 
who  know  how  to  keep  track  of  every  item  of  expense  and  income. 
In  the  larger  restaurants  one  finds  marvelous  accuracy  of  calcula- 
tion. Card-catalogue  systems  have  greatly  facilitated  the  restaurant 
business  as  well  as  many  other  lines  of  industry.  The  large  restau- 
rant-keeper can  tell  you  to  a  fraction  of  a  cent  the  actual  cost  of  a 
pie  of  certain  size,  when  flour  is  so  much  a  barrel  and  apples  so 
much  per  bushel.  Scientific  management  like  this,  it  is  true,  is  not 
found  in  the  cafe's  of  the  lodging-house  district,  but  those  which 
are  successful  are  nevertheless  managed  by  men  and  women  who 
give  their  entire  time  to  the  business  end  of  the  undertaking  and 
do  not  themselves  act  as  cooks  or  waiters. 

Certain  circumstances  favor  the  restaurant-keeper  in  his  com- 
petition with  the  boarding-house.  First  of  all,  the  cafe*  accords  with 
the  free  spirit  of  the  times.  Boarding-house  life  was  no  doubt  often 
monotonous  and  the  landlady  oftentimes  officiously  zealous  in  tak- 
ing care  of  the  affairs  of  her  boarders.  Boarders  had  to  be  on  time 
for  their  meals,  and  what  was  of  more  dire  importance,  they  had 


48          THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

to  pay  for  them  whether  they  ate  them  or  not.  When  some  one 
started  up  a  cafe"  near  by  and  agreed  that  the  boarder  should  pay 
only  for  what  he  ate,  and  that  he  should  eat  when  he  pleased,  whether 
at  ten  in  the  morning  or  at  midnight,  the  boarding-house  had  found 
a  dangerous  competitor,  especially  when  the  cafe*  was  able  to  re- 
duce its  prices  to  a  figure  which  looks,  on  paper,  ridiculously  low. 
Whether  the  average  person  can  board  more  cheaply  in  a  cafe" 
serving  meals  practically  a  la  carte  than  in  a  boarding-house  may 
be  doubted,  but  the  conveniences  of  the  cafe  more  than  compen- 
sate for  the  added  cost.  The  person  who  is  content  with  the  cafe 
eats  wherever  he  happens  to  be  when  he  is  hungry,  and  if  he  is  not 
very  hungry  he  saves  money  by  taking  a  sandwich  and  a  cup  of 
coffee  at  a  lunch-counter  or  a  glass  of  beer  and  a  free  lunch  in  some 
saloon. 

The  cost  of  board  is  somewhat  less  in  the  dining-rooms  than  in 
the  cafes.  Nevertheless  the  cafe"  has  certain  competitive  advantages. 
Some  of  the  dining-rooms  do  a  thriving  business  and  their  propri- 
etors are  undoubtedly  making  money,  but  as  a  rule  they  are  on  a 
precarious  footing,  and  are  always  opening  "  under  entirely  new  man- 
agement." New  dining-rooms  are  always  springing  up,  and  disap- 
pearing almost  in  a  day,  ephemerally.  This  is  because  they  are 
launched  without  inquiry  as  to  their  need,  without  advertising  their 
existence  except  by  a  placard  stuck  in  the  basement  window,  and 
without  a  businesslike  manager  in  charge.  They  are  generally  con- 
ducted by  women  who,  the  chances  are,  have  not  had  the  training 
and  experience  necessary  to  cope  with  the  trying  conditions  of  the 
lodging-house  district.  There  are  hosts  of  women  capable  of  keep- 
ing a  lodging-house  who  have  not  the  business  ability  requisite 
for  restaurant  management.  Many  lack  the  necessary  physical  vigor 
and  nervous  energy.  The  cafe*  therefore  has  the  same  advantage 
over  the  separate  basement  dining-room  that  it  has  over  the  at- 
tached boarding-house  dining-room,  —  better  business  management. 
It  also  in  most  cases  has  the  advantage  of  situation.  It  is  on  a 
main  street,  close  by  the  great  ebb  and  flow  of  the  population  to 
and  from  its  work.  It  is  on  the  street  level,  it  has  plate-glass  win- 
dows, electric  lights,  and  electric  fans.  It  can  be  made  clean  and 
attractive  in  appearance,  and  the  smell  of  cooking  can  be  kept  out 
of  it.  None  of  these  things  is  true  of  the  dining-room.  The  latter 


THE  CHANGE  FROM  BOARDING  TO  LODGING         49 

is  below  the  level  of  the  sidewalk,  often  on  a  side  street  with  com- 
paratively few  passers-by,  is  poorly  lighted  by  day  and  by  gas  at 
night,  is  hot  and  stuffy,  full  of  the  disagreeable  odors  of  the  kitchen 
hardby,  and  rarely  looks  as  clean  as  the  average  cafe.  The  cafe* 
also  has  the  advantage  of  buying  supplies  in  larger  quantities  and 
of  securing  more  reliable  employees.  The  dining-room,  again,  can- 
not cope  with  the  cafe  in  variety  of  fare  offered,  and  it  has  none  of 
the  suggestion  of  freedom  which  attracts  young  people  to  the  cafe. 

Both  cafes  and  dining-rooms  issue  meal-tickets,  but  of  different 
kinds.  The  cafe's  give  discount  tickets,  "$5.75  for  $5,"  etc.,  de- 
signed to  get  people  to  pay  in  advance  and  thus  hold  their  patron- 
age. The  dining-room  tickets  are  $3.50  for  men  and  $3  for  women. 
A  lodger  often  has  tickets  from  several  different  places  at  the  same 
time  and  eats  where  fancy  dictates.  He  thus  becomes  known  as 
a  "mealer."  Whenever  a  new  dining-room  starts  up  it  generally 
gives  board  above  the  average  quality  at  first,  and  there  is  often  a 
rush  for  it.  Then  as  the  quality  of  the  board  falls  off,  the  boarders 
one  by  one  drop  out.  Sometimes  one  of  these  ephemeral  dining- 
rooms  will  sell  a  large  number  of  meal-tickets,  and  then  quietly  dis- 
appear in  the  night,  leaving  the  luckless  "mealer"  the  consolation 
of  being  wiser  for  his  experience.  On  the  other  hand  the  meal-ticket 
is  subject  to  abuse  on  the  part  of  the  thoughtless  or  unprincipled 
lodger.  It  renders  the  dining-room  business  precarious  because  the 
proprietor  never  knows  how  many  persons  she  is  to  have  at  a  meal. 
Lodgers  will  often  .buy  a  ticket,  moreover,  and  "eat  it  out"  in  din- 
ners, which  cost  the  proprietor  more  than  other  meals.  The  wise 
proprietor,  however,  prevents  this  practice  by  designating  the  kind 
of  meals  to  be  given  for  the  ticket. 

Competition  between  the  various  eating- establishments  no  doubt 
tends  to  keep  down  prices.  The  effort  to  entice  patronage  is  every- 
where apparent.  It  also  lowers  the  standard  and  quality  of  food 
served.  It  is  difficult  to  see  how  the  dining-rooms  can  serve  good 
material  at  the  low  prices  they  charge. 

The  effects  of  the  change  from  boarding  to  lodging,  aside  from 
their  bearing  on  the  boarding-house  keeper,  have  been  mainly 
social  and  moral.  The  cafe"  and  dining-room  are  favorable  places 
for  the  striking  of  chance  acquaintanceships,  but  not  to  any  true 
companionship  or  fellowship.  In  the  basement  dining-rooms  meals 


50          THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

are  eaten  almost  in  silence.  No  one  has  a  permanent  seat.  The 
"mealer"  comes  in  at  no  particular  time,  fishes  his  napkin  out  of 
a  rack  on  the  wall,  and  sits  wherever  he  can  find  room.  Many 
unfortunate  and  evil  associations  are  nevertheless  formed  in  these 
establishments.  The  caf£  system  has  undoubtedly  done  much  to 
turn  aside  the  currents  of  healthy  sociability  and  worthy  friend- 
ship into  channels  of  doubtful  purity  and  of  certain  moral  danger. 


APPENDIX   TO    CHAPTER   VI 

TABLE  15.  —  BOARDERS  AND  LODGERS,  BOSTON,  1885  1 

Males                26,065 2      Total  number  of  boarders  15,938 

Boarders        10,832       Total  number  of  lodgers  24,280 

Lodgers         15,233       Total  number  of  boarders  and  lodgers  40,218 

Females  Mi1 53       Percentage  of  boarders  to  total  number 

Boarders         5,106          of  boarders  and  lodgers  39.6 
Lodgers           9,047       Percentage  of  lodgers  to  total  number  of 

boarders  and  lodgers  60.4 

Per  cent,  excess  of  lodgers  over  boarders  20.8 

TABLE  16.  —  BOARDERS  AND  LODGERS,  BOSTON,  1895  3 

Native-born.                    Foreign-born.  Total. 

Males                                19,626                            15,822  35,448 

Boarders                        2,598                             3,814  6,412 

Lodgers                        17,028                           12,008  29,036 

Females                           12,945                             6,029  18,974 

Boarders                         2,042                              1,042  3,084 

Lodgers                        10,903                             4,987  15,890 

Totals,  both  sexes,          32,571                           2I,85i  54,422 

Total  number  of  boarders  9,496 

Total  number  of  lodgers  44,926 

Percentage  of  boardtrs  to  total  number  of  boarders  and  lodgers  17.4 

Percentage  of  lodgers  to  total  number  of  boarders  and  lodgers  82.6 

Percentage  excess  of  lodgers  over  boarders  68.8 

1  Compiled  from  the  Mass.  State  Census,  1885,  vol.  i,  p.  471. 

2  No  distinction  between  foreign-  and  native-born  was  made  in  the  census  of  1885 
for  boarders  and  lodgers. 

3  Mass.  State  Census,  1895,  vol.  ii,  p.  568. 


THE  CHANGE  FROM  BOA1 

WING   TO  LODGINC 

'          51 

TABLE   17.      BOARDERS  AND  LODGERS,   MASSACHUSETTS 

,     1885' 

Native-born. 

Foreign-born. 

Total. 

Males                               52,472 

39,076 

91,548 

Boarders                      35,o6o 

30,449 

65,509 

Lodgers                        17,412 

8,627 

26,039 

Females                           33,877 

16,391 

50,268 

Boarders                       21,706 

11,136 

32,842 

Lodgers                        I2,i7i 

5,255 

17,426 

Totals,  both  sexes           86,349 

55,467 

141,816 

Total  number  of  boarders 

98,351 

Total  number  of  lodgers 

43,465 

Total  number  of  boarders  and  lodgers 

141,816 

Including 

Excluding 

Boston. 

Boston. 

Percentage  of  boarders  to  total  number  of 

boarders  and  lodgers 

69-3 

SUE 

Percentage  of  lodgers  to  total  number  of 

boarders  and  lodgers 

30-7 

18.9 

Per  cent,  excess  of  boarders  over  lodgers 

38.6 

62.2 

TABLE  18.  BOARDERS  AND  LODGERS,  MASSACHUSETTS,  1895  2 

Native-born.  Foreign-born.  Total. 

Males  66,925  65,971  132,896 

Boarders  30,244  39,4*8  69,662 


Lodgers 


36,681 


Females  4°,I75 

Boarders  I9,I75 

Lodgers  21,099 

Totals,  both  sexes         107,100 

Total  number  of  boarders 

Total  number  of  lodgers 

Total  number  of  boarders  and  lodgers 


Percentage  of  boarders  to  total  number  of 

boarders  and  lodgers 
Percentage  of  lodgers  to  total  number  of 

boarders  and  lodgers 
Per  cent,  excess  of  boarders  over  lodgers 


26,553 

22,149 
11,558 
10,591 

88,120 


Including 
Boston. 


51-3 

48.7 
2.6 


63,234 

62,324 

30,634 

31,690 

195,220 

100,296 

94,924 

195,220 

Excluding 
Boston. 

63-8 

36.2 
27.6 


1  Mass.  State  Census,  1885,  vol.  i,  p.  484. 
J  Mass.  State  Census,  1895,  vol.  ii,  p.  572. 


CHAPTER   VII 

THE  LODGING-HOUSE  KEEPER  AND  HER  PROBLEM 

THE  lodging-house  keeper  has  developed  as  a  natural  result  of  new 
conditions,  —  the  rising  demand,  on  the  part  of  boarders,  for  more 
freedom  and  a  bohemian  existence;  and  that  advance  of  scientific 
industry  and  that  growing  keenness  of  competition  which  we  have 
seen  so  fatal  to  the  boarding-house  keeper.  We  have  an  interest 
in  the  lodging-house  keeper  for  two  reasons :  first,  because  she  does 
much  to  make  the  lodging-house  what  it  is,  and  to  determine  its 
influence  over  the  lodger;  and  secondly,  because  her  class  is  a 
large  one  and  is  beset  with  some  difficult  problems  of  its  own. 

Most  lodging-house  keepers  are  women,  —  ninety-five  out  of  a 
hundred  probably,  —  and  where  there  is  a  man  who  sets  himself 
down  as  proprietor  of  a  lodging-house,  —  unless  it  be  one  of  the 
cheap,  transient  sort  with  which  we  are  not  dealing,  —  the  chances 
are  that  he  has  a  wife  or  daughter  who  is  the  real  person  in  charge 
and  does  the  major  share  of  the  work.1  Since  the  lodging-house 
keepers  are  practically  all  women,  we  shall  hereafter  call  them, 
for  the  sake  of  brevity,  the  landladies.  As  to  age  they  range  from 
young  girls  to  old  women  who  can  scarcely  hobble  about.  Of  the 
1423  females  engaged  in  the  boarding  and  lodging  occupation  in 
Boston  in  1900,  23  were  between  sixteen  and  twenty-four  years  of 
a8e>  7°3  between  twenty-five  and  forty-four,  592  between  forty- 
five  and  sixty-four,  and  103  sixty-five  years  and  over.  Ninety-one 
per  cent.,  that  is,  were  between  twenty-five  and  sixty-four,  and  7.2 
per  cent,  were  sixty-five  or  over.  As  to  nationality,  489  were  native- 
born  whites,  656  were  foreign- born,  and  55  were  negroes.  These 

1  The  Census  of  1900  (Occupations,  pp.  494,  498)  shows  148  male  "boarding-  and 
lodging-house  keepers"  in  Boston  to  1423  females,  a  proportion  of  one  male  to  every 
nine  and  a  half  females  engaged  in  the  business;  but  as  by  far  the  greater  number 
of  these  men  are  engaged  in  the  cheap  lodging-house  business,  the  census  figures 
do  not  apply  directly  in  our  problem. 


THE  LODGING-HOUSE  KEEPER  AND  HER  PROBLEM      53 

latter  are  found  chiefly  around  the  Back  Bay  station,  where  there 
is  a  large  negro  colony.  The  Census  gives  us  (for  females) : 

Persons  of  native  parentage  535 

Persons  having  either  one  or  both  parents  born  in 

Ireland  397  Russia  (Russian  Jews)  10 

Canada,  English  217  Italy  7 

Great  Britain  117  Austria-Hungary  3 

Scandanavia  27  Other  countries  9 

Canada,  French  19  Mixed  foreign  parentage  68 

Germany  14 

The  largest  single  division  is  the  native-born.  Most  of  these  come 
from  New  England.  Maine,  New  Hampshire,  Vermont  —  northern 
New  England  —  seem  to  unite  with  Canada  in  sending  a  steady 
stream  of  people  to  Boston  to  fill  its  lodging-houses,  either  as  lodgers 
or  as  landladies  and  housekeepers.  The  large  number  of  Irish  land- 
ladies is  noteworthy,  but  the  writer  is  inclined  to  think  that  their 
number  in  the  South  End  is  exceeded  by  the  Canadians.1 

1  The  nearest  statistics  we  have  for  a  district  smaller  than  the  whole  city  are  given 
in  the  following  table,  taken  from  the  Massachusetts  State  Census  of  1895,  vol.  iv, 
pp.  1007  and  ion,  representing  conditions,  be  it  remembered,  as  they  were  ten  or 
twelve  years  ago.  It  covers  a  much  larger  territory  than  the  lodging-house  section, 
and  in  fact  somewhat  more  than  is  usually  included  in  the  term  "South  End,"  but 
it  is  not  without  some  value  as  indicating  the  age,  nationality,  and  literacy  or  illiteracy 
of  persons  engaged  in  the  " Boarding  and  Lodging"  occupation.  It  includes  not  only 
landladies  but  restaurant-  and  cafe"-keepers,  which  makes  the  numbers  larger  than 
those  of  the  census  of  1900. 

TABLE  19.    PERSONS  ENGAGED  IN  THE  "  BOARDING  AND  LODGING  "  OCCUPATION 

IN  THE  SOUTH  END 

15  but  under  20  but  60  and 

Total                    20  under  60  over  Illiterates 
Males 

Native-born            750                     23  709  18                 n 

Foreign-born           300                      10  281  9                   4 

Total                    1,050                     33  990  27                 15 

Females 

Native-born  857  45  757  51  9 

Foreign-bom  973  72  868  33  37 

Total  1,826  117  1,625  84  46 

The  Bureau  of  Statistics  of  Labor,  in  a  letter  to  the  writer,  defines  the  South  End 
district  of  the  State  Census  as  follows:  "The  so-called  South  End  District  lies  be- 


54          THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

Of  more  importance  than  the  nationality  or  age  of  the  landladies 
is  their  conjugal  condition,  and  also  what  may  be  called  their  pre- 
vious condition  of  servitude ;  for  not  all  landladies  have  been  trained 
in  the  lodging-house  business  all  their  lives.  Very  many  have  come 
from  the  hill  farms  of  New  England  and  Canada,  some  have  risen 
from  the  tenement-house,  and  not  a  few  have  seen  better  days. 
Here,  for  instance,  is  one  whose  husband  used  to  be  a  prominent 
shoe  manufacturer,  but  lost  his  money  in  the  stress  of  competition 
and  then  died;  now  his  widow  is  making  an  heroic  and  successful 
struggle,  amid  conditions  which  she  has  had  absolutely  no  train- 
ing to  meet.  Here  is  a  widow  whose  husband  was  a  sea  captain, 
another  whose  husband  was  a  newspaper  editor;  and  so  the  list 
goes.  We  should  undoubtedly  be  surprised  could  we  ascertain  the 
number  and  sterling  character  of  the  women  whom  misfortune  of 
some  sort  has  condemned  to  keeping  roomers.  Most  of  them  take 
it  philosophically.  It  speaks  well  for  feminine  fortitude  when  a 
kindly  faced  old  lady,  who  used  to  have  servants  of  her  own,  tells 
you  with  a  smile  that  keeping  lodgers  "is  very  pleasant  work,  if 
you  don't  mind  the  little  things."  A  very  large  proportion  of  land- 
ladies, but  not  all,  are  widowed  or  divorced.  The  Census  of  1900 
shows  353  married,  324  single,  50  divorced,  and  696  widowed.  Only 
one  quarter  (24.8  per  cent.)  were  married.  But  this  is  no  sure  cri- 
terion of  the  number  of  landladies  who  may  have  more  or  less  help 
from  some  male  relative.  Table  20,  compiled  from  the  annual  Pre- 

tween  the  South  Bay  (Fort  Point  Channel)  and  a  line  drawn  through  the  centres  of 
the  following  streets  and  railroads,  beginning  at  Bristol  on  the  north:  Bristol,  Harri- 
son Avenue,  Dover,  Berkeley,  Albany  Railroad,  Providence  Railroad,  Northamp- 
ton to  the  centre  of  Columbus  Avenue;  thence  diagonally  across  the  blocks  to  the 
corner  of  Hammond  and  Tremont  streets;  thence  through  the  centre  of  Hammond 
Street  to  Shawm ut  Avenue;  thence  easterly  nearly  to  Fellows  Street,  beyond  Harri- 
son Avenue;  thence  easterly  across  the  blocks  to  the  centre  of  Northampton  Street; 
through  the  centre  of  Northampton  Street  to  Albany  Street;  and  thence  through 
the  centre  of  Albany  Street  to  Massachusetts  Avenue;  and  by  the  centre  of  Massa- 
chusetts Avenue  to  the  water  line  along  the  canal."  If  the  writer  may  venture  a  criti- 
cism, he  would  suggest  that  this  is  a  type  of  very  poor  division  for  statistical  purposes. 
It  includes  both  a  great  region  of  tenement -houses  and  a  vast  area  of  lodging-houses, 
—  two  districts  totally  different  in  population,  in  economic  structure,  and  in  social 
significance.  Adding  the  two  together  in  statistical  columns  is  like  adding  pianos 
and  turnips  in  the  same  sum.  The  result  means  little  for  most  purposes.  The  table 
here  given  is  unfortunately  the  nearest  approach  we  can  yet  make  to  the  statistics 
needed. 


CHART  VI. 

of  lodging  house  landladies  who  have  husbands  or  other  male  relatives  of  thesawe 
I    name  irtthe  house.— wheae  dependence  probably  is  not, therefor*. solely  in  the  keeping 
of  lodgers. 


THE  LODGING-HOUSE  KEEPER  AND  HER  PROBLEM     55 

cinct  Lists  of  Male  Residents  l  for  1903,  which  also  gives  the  names 
of  the  landladies  in  lodging-house  districts,  shows  that  about  half  the 
landladies  are  either  widowed  or  single,  and  that  the  other  half, 
where  not  married,  at  least  have  some  male  relative  of  the  same 
name  in  the  house,  upon  whom  they  could  perhaps  rely,  if  need 
be,  for  assistance.  A  total  of  1389  houses  are  included  in  the  table. 
The  results  by  precincts  are  shown  graphically  in  Chart  vi. 

TABLE  20.  NUMBER  AND  PERCENTAGE  OF  LODGING-HOUSE  KEEPERS 
WHO  HAVE,  AND  OF  THOSE  WHO  HAVE  NOT,  HUSBANDS  OR  OTHER 
MALE  RELATIVES  OF  THE  SAME  NAME  IN  THE  HOUSE. 


•  * 

3  I  £S  ES  4  a 

*£  -aJS  11  *§ 

•si  *-s        tfi 

E         I",      §1,         S~E-; 

rfi      (0     tfi  -M     (/]  <O     4J 

.tJ   <u  3  »-   ed  3  ^  "M  6 

£-5.8        ZtZ  211 

Ward  12  Precinct  i  75  65  53.5  46.5 

Ward  12  Precinct  a  57  88  39  61 

Ward  12  Precinct  3  37  33  53  47 

Ward  12  Precinct  4  61  55  52.5  47.5 

Ward  12  Precinct  5  36  47  43  57 

Ward  12  Precinct  6  49  24  67  33 

Ward  12  Precinct  7  27  13  67.5  32.5 

Ward    9  Precinct  5  71  Si  46.5  53.5 

Ward    9  Precinct  6  42  61  41  59 

Ward  10  Precinct  3  55  73  43  57 

Ward  10  Precinct  4  66  52  56  44 

Ward  10  Precinct  5  60  39  60  40 

Ward  10  Precinct  6  56  67  45.5  54.5 

Totals  692  697  49.82  50.18 

It  will  be  noted  from  the  chart  that  the  region  of  the  best  lodg- 
ing-houses, Ward  12,  Precinct  2,  and  the  adjoining  precincts,  i,  4, 
and  5,  show  the  lowest  percentage  of  married  landladies.  Nowhere 
is  the  percentage  of  married  less  than  one  third  the  total.  The  large 
number  of  married  in  Ward  10,  Precinct  5,  is  due  to  the  fact  that 
this  is  a  negro  quarter.  In  Precincts  6  and  7  of  Ward  12,  the  large 

1  Formerly  compiled  each  year  by  the  Board  of  Assessors,  but  now  made  up  under 
the  direction  of  the  Board  of  Police  Commissioners  by  a  house-to-house  canvass  by 
policemen  the  first  day  of  May  each  year. 


56          THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

proportion  of  married  is  due  chiefly  to  the  large  number  of  Jewish 
families  living  there  and  taking  in  lodgers. 

The  occupations  of  husbands  of  landladies  are  interesting  as 
throwing  some  light  upon  the  social  standards  likely  to  be  held  to, 
and  also  as  indicating  something  of  the  economic  status  of  the  couples 
thus  keeping  lodgers.  The  male  relatives'  occupations  were  divided 
as  follows: 

Professional  service  30 

Domestic  and  personal  service  117 

Trade  and  transportation  227 

Manufacturing  and  mechanical  pursuits  198 

The  largest  single  employments  represented  were:  dealers,  etc.,  56; 
clerks,  53;  salesmen,  37;  carpenters,  30;  waiters,  28;  and  machin- 
ists, 20. l 

1  The  employments  in  detail  are  given  in  the  following  table: 

TABLE  21.   OCCUPATIONS  OF  MALE  RELATIVES  (IN  THE  SAME  HOUSE)  OF  LODGING- 
HOUSE  KEEPERS 

I.  Professional  Service,  30. 

Physicians n    Lawyers 3 

Musicians 6   Opticians a 

Dentists 3 

Editor,  journalist,  architect,  teacher,  chemist,  i  each. 

II.  Domestic  and  Personal  Servants,  117. 

Waiters  28  Stewards 6 

Janitors 16  Watchmen 5 

Laborers 9  Barbers 4 

Cooks 9  Stablemen 3 

Policemen 8  Butlers 2 

Porters 8  Hotel-men 2 

Coachmen 7  Nurses 2 

Bartenders    6  Peddler,  bellman i  each. 

III.  Trade  and  Transportation,  227. 

A.  Clerks 53         Conductors 6 

Salesmen 37         Foremen    6 

Real-estate  agents 14        Managers 5 

Bookkeepers 1 1         Superintendents  2 

Shippers 10         Collectors 2 

Agents  7         Commercial  travelers 2 

Insurance  agents   6 

Stock-keeper,  solicitor,  adjuster,  cashier,  secretary,  ticket-seller,  stenographer, 

speculator,  mail-clerk,  baggage-master,  i  each. 


THE  LODGING-HOUSE  KEEPER  AND  HER  PROBLEM     57 

To  sum  up,  then,  this  phase  of  our  discussion,  we  may  say  that 
the  lodging-house  keepers  are  practically  all  women,  as  a  rule  of 
middle  age,  mostly  Yankees  and  Provincials,  about  half  of  them 
married,  and  the  other  half  widowed  or  single,  and  of  the  most 
varied  antecedents. 

One  of  the  kernels  of  the  whole  lodging-house  problem  is  the 
economic  condition  of  the  lodging-house  keeper.  This  is  true  be- 
cause certain  moral  influences,  for  instance  the  presence  or  absence 
of  a  public  parlor  where  lodgers  may  receive  their  callers,  depend 
upon  the  status  of  the  landlady's  finances.  In  order  to  attack  the 
moral  problem  it  is  necessary  to  get  at  the  cash  nexus  which  exists 
between  landlady,  landlord,  and  lodger,  and  to  do  this  we  must 
ascertain  as  nearly  as  possible  the  average  or  general  expenses  and 
income  of  the  lodging-house  keeper.  Since  by  far  the  greater  num- 
ber of  rooming-houses  are  of  the  16-  to  i8-room  type,  we  will  as- 

B.  Dealers,  etc 56         Builders 4 

Merchants 6         Produce-dealers   2 

Druggists 5         Provision-dealers    2 

Liquor-dealers    5         Caterers 2 

Grocers   4         Manufacturers   2 

Restaurant-keepers    4         Brokers   2 

Hardware,  florist,  furniture,  tobacco,  horse-dealer,  kitchen-ware,  pawn-shop,  bil- 
liard-hall, fish,  shoes,  junk,  undertaker,  meat,  coal,  pictures,  lumber,  haberdasher, 
Turkish  baths,  i  each. 

IV.  Manufacturing  and  Mechanical  Pursuits,  198. 

Carpenters    30    Electricians 4 

Machinists    20   Piano-makers 4 

Engineers   17    Masons  4 

Painters 12    Plasterers    3 

Printers 10   Paper-hangers    3 

Tailors 7    Moulders 3 

Drivers    7    Motormen 3 

Blacksmiths   6   Photographers   3 

Cabinet-makers  6   Linemen  2 

Butchers   6   Bakers 2 

Teamsters 6   Expressmen    2 

Shoemakers 5    Bricklayers 2 

Plumbers 4   Sailors 2 

Firemen 4 

Violin-maker,  ship-chandler,  woodworker,  stone-cutter,  switchman,  leverman, 
upholsterer,  finisher,  polisher,  varnish-maker,  gold-beater,  cigar-maker,  lithogra- 
pher, paver,  brakeman,  miller,  decorator,  packer,  bottler,  dyer,  tinsmith,  i  each. 


58          THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

sume  that  the  house  is  rated  at  seventeen  rooms,  inclusive  of  kitchen, 
dining-room,  laundry,  and  bath. 

The  income  of  the  landlady  consists  of  the  rent  she  receives  from 
her  lodgers.  Her  expenses  consist  of  house-rent,  coal,  gas,  water, 
laundry,  repairs  on  furniture,  replenishment  of  rugs,  bedding,  etc. 

First  as  to  expenses:  The  rent  for  a  10-,  u-,  or  i2-room  house 
ranges  from  $600  to  $800,  with  a  probable  average  of  $750.  The 
larger  houses,  of  16  to  18  rooms,  rent  for  $1000  to  $1500,  the  latter 
being  a  very  exceptional  rent  in  very  favored  locations.  Ordinarily 
the  rent  does  not  run  over  $1200.  The  average  rent  for  houses  of 
the  ly-room  type  in  the  South  End  is  probably  not  far  from  $1075. 
These  estimates  are  made  on  the  basis  of  much  personal  inquiry 
among  landladies  and  real-estate  agents.  To  be  entirely  on  the  safe 
side  we  will  put  the  rent  of  our  typical  i7-room  house  at  $1000, 
thus  placing  this  item  of  expense  at  the  lowest  possible  figure. 

Next  as  to  coal-bills :  Curiously  enough  the  answers  given  by  land- 
ladies as  to  this  item  do  not  seem  to  depend  upon  the  size  of  the 
house.  Coal-bills  run  indiscriminately  from  $60  to  over  $100.  For 
a  i7-room  house  it  would  not  be  safe  to  allow  less  than  $90  a  year 
for  coal.  Lodging-houses  in  the  Back  Bay  (Huntington  Avenue 
and  St.  Botolph  Street  district)  have  to  allow  more,  since  they  are 
inhabited  chiefly  by  students  who  may  be  in  the  house  all  day  and 
demand  more  constant  heat,  so  that  the  fires  cannot  be  allowed  to 
die  down  during  the  day,  as  is  customary  in  the  South  End.  The 
South  End  also  saves  by  not  heating  either  side  rooms  or  attic. 

Gas,  in  the  long  run,  costs  more  than  coal.  Gas-bills  vary  from 
month  to  month.  In  winter,  when  the  evenings  are  long,  and  lodgers 
are  confined  to  their  rooms  more  than  in  summer,  gas-bills  mount 
high;  in  summer  they  are  low.  The  bills  vary  greatly  from  house 
to  house  also,  according  to  the  character  of  the  lodgers  and  the 
watchfulness  of  the  landlady.  Lodgers  no  doubt  waste  a  good  deal 
of  gas  through  carelessness  and  sometimes  through  vindictiveness. 
The  average  lowest  rate  per  month,  in  summer,  is  about  $4.50;  the 
average  highest  rate,  in  winter,  about  $13.  Actual  rates  run  from 
almost  nothing  in  summer  to  $20  a  month  and  over  in  winter.  The 
following  is  a  typical  gas-account  for  the  year: 


THE  LODGING-HOUSE  KEEPER  AND  HER  PROBLEM     59 

Jan $14.00  May 10.00  Sept 5.50 

Feb 12. oo  June 8.00  Oct 7.50 

March 14.00  July   5.00  Nov 12.50 

April 13.00  Aug 5.00  Dec 13.50 

Total $120.00 

The  next  item  is  the  water-bill,  which  most  landladies  have  to  pay 
in  addition  to  their  regular  rent.  The  regulations  of  the  city  water 
department  provide  that  "the  rates  for  water  furnished  to  a  build- 
ing for  the  use  of  the  occupants  are  to  be  paid  by  the  owner  of  the 
building,"  but  most  South  End  lodging-house  leases  stipulate  that 
the  lessee  shall  pay  the  tax.  Water  is  furnished  at  annual  rates, 
differing  for  various  classes  of  building.  Lodging-houses  come  under 
the  head  of  dwellings,  and  are  assessed  as  follows: 

On  the  value  of  the  building  — 

For  the  first  $1000 $6.00 

For  each  $100  or  fraction  thereof,  thereafter i.oo 

Self-closing  water-closets,  each 5.00 

Each  room  let  to  lodgers 50 

On  a  house  assessed  at  $12,000  and  containing  seventeen  rooms, 
fourteen  of  which  were  let  to  lodgers  (as  is  often  the  case  when  all 
are  full),  the  tax  would  be: 

For  first  $1000 $6.00 

For  the  other  $11,000 11.00 

One  water-closet  5.00 

Fourteen  rooms  at  .50 7.00 

Total $29.00 

Few  landladies,  however,  pay  so  much  as  this.  The  water-tax  paid 
is  rarely  over  $22  a  year.  Two  reasons  may  be  assigned  for  this  dis- 
crepancy. In  the  first  place,  the  rooms  are  not  all  full  "more  than 
half  the  time"  or  "on  the  average,"  the  criterion  applied  by  the 
water  inspectors;  and  secondly,  most  landladies  are  probably 
modest  in  stating  the  number  of  their  lodgers  when  the  water  in- 
spectors come  around. 

This  completes  the  list  of  definite,  fixed  expenses,  —  rent,  coal, 
gas,  and  water.  But  besides  these  we  have  laundry,  repair  and  re- 
newal of  furniture,  bedding,  and  towels,  and  occasional  inciden- 
tal expenses  for  repairs  on  the  house,  which  should  be  met  by  the 


6o 

landlord,  but  are  foisted  on  the  helpless  lessee.  For  these  expenses 
it  is  possible,  with  the  exception  of  the  laundry,  to  give  only  a  very 
general  estimate,  because  they  vary  so  much  from  house  to  house 
and  from  year  to  year. 

Most  landladies  send  their  bed-linen  out  to  be  laundered,  or  else 
hire  a  woman  a  day  or  two  each  week  to  do  the  house  washing. 
From  fifty  cents  in  the  medium  grade  house  to  one  dollar  a  week 
in  the  better  houses  is  allowed  for  laundry.  The  towels  and  the 
miscellaneous  small  linen  are  generally  washed  by  the  landlady 
herself.  We  shall  probably  be  safe  in  setting  the  laundry  expense 
at  a  fair  figure  if  we  call  it  $75  a  year. 

Another  $75  per  year  should  be  allowed  for  repairs  on  furniture 
and  carpets.  Some  landladies  put  this  item  as  high  as  $125  or 
$150  a  year.  Where  all  carpets  were  taken  up  and  cleaned  annually 
the  cost  would  be  $50  for  that  alone.  It  is  rarely  done,  however;  in 
most  lodging-houses,  a  carpet  once  on  the  floor  is  not  likely  to  be 
taken  up  for  several  years. 

Over  and  above  all  these  expenditures  we  shall  allow  $50  for 
unforeseen  expenses.  The  water-closet  may  get  out  of  repair  and 
the  landlord  refuse  to  mend  it.  A  hall  bedroom  may  need  repaper- 
ing,  a  hinge  will  come  off,  and  so  on  ad  infinitum  with  petty  little 
charges  small  in  themselves  but  numerous  enough,  when  taken 
collectively,  to  eat  into  the  landlady's  income. 

Coming  to  income,  and  distinguishing  between  possible  and 
probable  annual  income,  we  must  first  make  some  investigation 
of  the  rents  charged  for  rooms.  The  following  table  is  based  on 
accurate  data,  so  far  as  it  goes.  There  is  no  reason  to  suppose  that 
the  figures  would  be  altered  by  the  inclusion  of  more  samples.  The 
cases  taken  are  believed  to  represent  normal  conditions: 

TABLE  22.  NUMBER  OF  ROOMS  RENTED  AT  SPECIFIED  PRICES, 

SOUTH  END 

No.  No.     No.    No.     No.     No.     No.    No.    No.    No. 
at      at        at       at       at        at        at      at      at      at    Total. 
$6     $5      $4.50    $4    $3.50    $3    $2.50   $2     $1.50*1 

Front  parlor  -6141  -----12 

Rear  parlor  -        i-io        3  3        -        -        --16 

Front  square  2d  3102        6        3  --        -        --24 

Rear  square  ad  -1169  21        ---20 


THE  LODGING-HOUSE  KEEPER  AND  HER  PROBLEM     6 1 

Front  square  3d  -31      10        7        2        i        ---24 

Rear  square  3d  ---47711--        20 

Front  square  4th  ---125541-        18 

Rear  square  4th  ----14551-        16 

Dining-room  ----121---          4 

Rear  side  ist  -11-35 

Front  side  2d  ------2101-13 

Front  side  3d  ------2       14        2-18 

Rear  side  3d  -        --        -        -        -        -12        5-        17 

Front  side  4th  -------55111 

Rear  side  4th  4        71         12 

Total  3      21      5      41      34      25      19      56      22      5      230 

On  the  basis  of  this  table  and  of  other  data  not  of  a  statistical 
nature  we  calculate  the  following  average  prices  for  rooms : 

TABLE  23.    AVERAGE  PRICES  FOR  ROOMS. 

Floor.  Kind  of  room.  Average  price, 

ist  Front  parlor  $4.50 

ist  Rear  parlor  4.30 

2d  Front  square  4.25 

2d  Rear  square  3.65 

ad  Front  side  2.00 

3d  Front  square  4.00 

3d  Rear  square  3.30 

3d  Front  side  2.00 

3d  Rear  side  1.80 

4th  Front  square  2.65 

4th  Rear  square  2.50 

4th  Front  side  1.70 

4th  Rear  side  1.60 

The  total  average  weekly  income  of  a  house  where  the  landlady 
lives  in  the  basement  and  all  other  rooms  are  rented  is  thus  $38.25. 
This  would  amount  to  $1988  for  the  year,  if  all  rooms  were  kept 
full  all  the  time.  The  possible  gross  annual  income  of  a  ly-room 
house  is  therefore  not  above  $2000. 

Before  we  can  strike  an  actual  average  annual  income  we  must 
make  some  important  deductions.  First,  we  must  allow  for  vacan- 
cies. Many  houses  are  almost  depopulated  in  the  summer-time, 
and  many  others  are  forced  to  make  a  material  reduction  in  their 
rents.  There  are  many  places  in  the  country  and  the  surrounding 


62          THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

towns  where  lodgers  can  go  in  the  summer  and  live  just  as  cheaply 
as  in  the  city.  A  large  part  of  the  lodging-house  population  seems 
simply  to  fade  away  during  the  summer  months.  For  twelve  weeks 
during  the  hot  term  the  average  house  is  not  more  than  half  full. 
This  is  the  experience  and  evidence  of  the  Superintendent  of  the 
Y.  W.  C.  A.,  who  has  had  some  twenty  years  of  contact  with  the 
South  End  lodging-houses.  We  must  therefore  deduct  some  $228 
for  loss  of  room-rent  during  the  dull  season.  Even  during  the  rest 
of  the  year  it  is  a  lucky  house  which  can  keep  all  its  rooms  tenanted. 
The  parlors  are  notoriously  hard  to  let.  In  1895,  according  to  the 
State  Census  of  that  year,  there  were  in  Ward  12,  the  lodging-house 
ward  of  the  South  End,  32,313  rooms,  2589,  or  8  per  cent,  of  which 
were  vacant.1 

Every  one  testifies  to  the  fact  that  it  has  become  much  harder  of 
recent  years  to  rent  rooms  in  the  South  End  since  the  suburbs  have 
grown  so  rapidly.2  We  are  safe  in  saying,  therefore,  that  at  least 
8  per  cent,  of  the  rooms  are  always  vacant.  Fifty  per  cent,  of  the 
rooms  are  probably  vacant  in  summer,  and  the  total  annual  loss 
due  to  vacant  rooms  is  not  far  from  $348.  Deduct  this  from  the 
possible  income  of  $1988  and  we  have  a  probable  income  of  $1640. 

A  summary  of  the  annual  income  and  expenditure  of  the  aver- 
age house  will  then  stand  as  follows: 

Income.  Expenditures. 

Rent  of  rooms $1640  Rent  of  house $1000 

Coal 90 

Gas 120 

Water 22 

Laundry 75 

Wear  and  tear  on  furniture 75 

Renovation  of  carpets,  etc 50 

Incidental  expenses 50 

Total $1640                     Total $1482 

Balance,  net  income  for  the  year,  $158. 

And  in  this  statement  no  allowance  is  made  for  insurance  of  furni- 
ture, for  newspaper  advertising,  for  fees  to  room  registries,  or  for 

1  Mass.  State  Census,  1895,  vol.  i,  p.  570.    The  census  enumeration  is  made  in 
May,  before  the  summer  exodus  has  begun. 

2  This  is  substantiated  in  a  way,  also,  by  the  decline  in  population  of  the  lodging- 
house  district  shown  by  the  State  Census  of  1905.    See  p.  7,  note. 


THE  LODGING-HOUSE  KEEPER  AND  HER  PROBLEM    63 

interest  on  mortgages;  nor  is  the  landlady  allowed  a  maid,  or  any 
help  in  her  sweeping  and  other  housework,  save  the  laundry. 

In  Boston  comparatively  little  newspaper  advertising  is  done, 
the  landlady  placing  reliance  almost  entirely  upon  a  "Rooms  to 
Let"  sign  stuck  in  the  window,  and  upon  some  real-estate  office 
and  "room  registry"  for  new  lodgers.  In  New  York  and  Chicago, 
newspaper  advertisements  are  used  largely,  and  the  house  which 
stoops  to  a  room-sign  loses  caste. 

It  is  apparent  that  where  these  extra  expenses  have  to  be  met 
one  of  two  things  must  be  true :  either  the  landlady  has  some  source 
of  income  other  than  the  house,  or  she  contrives  to  keep  her  house 
full  of  lodgers.  In  many  cases  her  prices  may  of  course  be  higher 
than  those  we  have  figured  as  the  average.  On  the  other  hand  the 
rent  she  has  to  pay  for  the  house  will  in  such  cases  very  likely 
mount  to  $1100  or  $1200.  On  the  whole,  we  believe  that  a  complete 
census  inquiry,  should  it  ever  be  made,  —  and  the  writer  sincerely 
hopes  it  will, — would  show  that  the  average  lodging-house  is  no 
better  off  than  has  just  been  indicated.  There  are  many  women 
keeping  lodgers  who  are  making  money  in  the  business.  The  writer 
knows  of  one  woman  who  runs  eight  houses,  and  a  considerable 
number  who  run  two.  On  the  other  hand  there  are  many  failures. 
Inexperienced  women  from  the  country  come  to  Boston  in  high 
hopes  of  making  a  comfortable  living  by  what  looks  like  an  easy 
and  pleasant  occupation.  The  real-estate  agents,  moreover,  take 
care  to  increase  their  enthusiasm  until  they  have  sold  them  a  house 
(not  the  building,  but  the  furniture  and  good- will).  Totally  unfitted 
for  a  complex  environment,  these  people  are  the  prey  of  all  sorts 
of  sharpers,  and  if  they  survive  and  finally  establish  their  house  on 
a  paying  basis,  it  may  be  at  the  cost  of  their  tempers,  their  health, 
and  their  moral  sensibilities.  The  average  man  or  woman  thus 
coming  to  the  city  and  plunging  headlong  into  such  a  struggle  is 
not  likely  long  to  let  fine-drawn,  conscientious  moral  scruples  stand 
in  the  way  of  meeting  the  weekly  payment  on  the  mortgage. 

The  married  landladies  keep  lodgers  to  help  out  with  the  family 
expenses.  It  is  possible  for  a  couple  thus  to  reduce  their  own  rent 
expense  below  what  it  would  be  in  a  good  tenement,  and  they 
live  in  a  better  neighborhood.  It  also  gives  the  wife  something  to 
do,  and  affords  a  possibility  of  positively  increasing  their  available 


64          THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

income.  But  they  will  be  satisfied  if  they  pay  running  expenses, 
and  thus  earn  their  own  house-rent.  It  would  be  too  much,  perhaps, 
to  say  that  lodging-houses  kept  by  married  couples,  the  husband 
working  in  some  trade  or  profession,  and  the  wife  caring  for  the 
house,  are  in  the  long  run  of  a  higher  moral  type  than  the  others. 
Other  things  equal,  however,  this  would  be  the  case,  because  the 
struggle  to  make  both  ends  meet  is  not  so  imperative  with  such  a 
couple  as  with  the  single  woman,  and  the  married  landlady  can  be 
more  careful  as  to  what  kind  of  lodgers  she  admits  to  her  house. 
A  considerable  number  of  landladies  own  their  dwellings,  land  and 
all.  In  such  cases  the  moral  tone  of  the  house  is  generally  high. 

Where  the  landlady  is  a  widow  or  a  single  woman,  dependent 
wholly  for  her  livelihood  upon  the  keeping  of  lodgers,  it  is  evident 
that  the  theoretical  average  conditions  summarized  above  cannot 
obtain.  No  woman  can  live  on  $158  per  year.  She  must  either  keep 
her  house  full  or  cut  down  expenses.  In  actual  practice  she  will 
make  every  effort  to  do  both.  The  hard-pressed  single  landlady 
and  those  married  couples  who  are  more  or  less  indifferent  as  to 
the  morality  of  their  lodgers  will  take  in  almost  any  one  who  applies, 
without  references,  and  will  wink  at  conduct  which  under  other 
circumstances  might  not  be  tolerated.  After  a  while,  the  landlady 
will  be  perfectly  ready  to  say,  as  many  have  said  to  the  writer,  "It 
is  best  not  to  know  too  much  about  your  lodgers."  This  blunting 
of  the  moral  standards  of  the  landladies  themselves  is  a  sinister  and 
dangerous  aspect  of  lodging-house  life;  it  is  due  not  to  any  inherent 
human  depravity,  but  to  economic  pressure.  It  gives  rise  to  two 
great  classes  of  lodging-house  keepers,  — those  who  care  about  what 
their  lodgers  do  and  are,  and  those  who  do  not  care. 

As  a  typical  illustration  of  the  kind  of  personage  meant  by  "those 
who  don't  care,"  the  writer  begs  leave  to  quote  the  following  para- 
graph from  his  note-book.  It  represents  a  first  impression,  but  one 
that  has  held  true  of  this  class  invariably:  "We  questioned  her 
closely  concerning  the  morals  of  her  lodgers.  She  maintained  that 
she  could  and  did  keep  strict  watch  over  them,  and  could  tell  if 
anything  wrong  was  going  on.  Nevertheless  she  admitted  that  'men 
have  to  take  lady  callers  to  their  rooms,  and  women  men  callers 
to  theirs,'  and  that,  as  she  said,  'a  girl  can't  stand  out  on  the 
street  and  freeze  talking  to  her  fellow.'  But  her  idea  of  a  'straight' 


THE  LODGING-HOUSE  KEEPER  AND  HER  PROBLEM      65 

house  is  one  which  is  outwardly  quiet,  with  lodgers  who  do  not 
burn  too  much  gas.  Finally,  she  practically  admitted  the  immoral 
side  of  the  house.  'Of  course,'  she  said,  'we  have  to  think  it 's  all 
right  anyhow;  if  a  lodger  is  quiet  and  pays  his  rent,  we  can't  turn 
him  out.  We  can't  afford  to  be  too  particular. ' " 

No  estimate  will  be  attempted  as  to  the  number  of  landladies  and 
houses  of  this  class,  but  it  is  a  class  thoroughly  typical  of  any  lodg- 
ing-house district.  It  would  be  highly  unjust,  however,  to  judge 
all  lodging-houses  by  this  sort  alone.  There  are  many  landladies, 
as  we  have  already  suggested,  who  are  above  moral  reproach  in 
the  conduct  of  their  houses,  and  who  are  doing  much  for  themselves, 
their  lodgers,  and  the  community.  More  than  a  few  are  members 
of  various  women's  clubs  and  philanthropical  organizations.  Here 
is  one  who  has  been  a  high  officer  in  the  Woman's  Relief  Corps, 
another  who  provides  a  bed  in  a  sailors'  hospital;  one  who  studies 
elocution  and  music;  and  another  whose  daughter  teaches  Latin 
and  Greek  in  a  well-known  private  school.  Here,  too,  are  a  dozen 
or  more  who  are  sending  sons  and  daughters,  nephews  and  nieces, 
through  Harvard  and  Radcliffe.  No  suspicion  can  attach  to  the 
intentions  of  women  of  this  type. 

Aside  from  the  fact  that  economic  pressure  makes  many  land- 
ladies —  perhaps  the  majority  —  indifferent  to  questionable  prac- 
tices on  the  part  of  their  lodgers,  another  moral  evil  results  from 
the  struggle  to  make  both  ends  meet.  Probably  not  five  per  cent, 
of  the  houses  have  a  public  parlor  or  reception-room.  This  lack  is 
an  evil  universally  recognized  by  ah1  who  face  the  lodging-house 
problem.1  Ninety-nine  per  cent,  of  the  houses  allow  lodgers  to  take 
callers  to  their  rooms.  In  perhaps  ten  per  cent,  of  the  houses,  the 
landlady  will  say  something  like  this:  "Oh,  I  suppose  if  a  person 
had  a  caller  whom  he  did  not  want  to  take  to  his  room,  I  would  let 
him  use  the  parlor."  The  landlady  often  uses  the  parlor  for  her 
own  living-room,  and  to  have  it  used  on  any  occasion  as  a  reception- 
room  is  naturally  an  inconvenience  to  her. 

Two  reasons  exist  for  the  general  absence  of  the  common  recep- 
tion-room. One  is  that  the  landladies  cannot  afford  it,  the  other 

1  See,  for  instance,  The  Franklin  Square  House,  a  pamphlet  issued  by  the 
Franklin  Square  House  Association,  1902,  p.  6.  See  also  Bulletin  no.  15  of  the 
U.  S.  Dept.  of  Labor,  p.  142. 


66          THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

that  the  lodgers  do  not  demand  it.  The  Superintendent  of  the 
Young  Women's  Christian  Association  states  emphatically  that 
her  twenty  years'  experience  with  lodging-houses  has  taught  her 
that  the  landladies  pay  so  high  a  rent  that  for  most  of  them  it  is 
economically  impossible  to  keep  a  public  parlor.  Absolute  proof  that 
this  view  is  correct  is  not  to  be  had  until  the  State  Bureau  of  Sta- 
tistics of  Labor  or  some  other  agency  is  empowered  by  law  and  pro- 
vided with  funds  to  carry  through  a  statistical  investigation  of  lodg- 
ing-house conditions;  but  we  trust  that  what  has  been  said  above 
will  make  it  plain  that  the  statement  is  substantially  correct.  More 
is  said  on  the  matter  of  the  public  parlor  in  chapter  xvni. 

With  regard  to  the  life  of  the  landlady  herself,  in  general  it  may 
be  said  to  be  full  of  monotony  and  petty  troubles,  even  where  the 
furniture  is  paid  for  and  there  is  no  mortgage  to  meet.  She  very 
often  lives  in  the  basement,  in  cramped  and  unhealthful  quarters. 
In  many  cases  she  takes  her  meals  at  a  basement  dining-room,  like 
her  lodgers.  As  a  rule  she  sees  little  of  her  roomers  and  takes  an 
interest  in  them  only  in  so  far  as  business  requires.  She  is  some- 
times cheated  by  them,  often  unnecessarily  annoyed.  She  generally 
prefers  men  to  women  lodgers  because  men  are  out  of  the  house 
more,  are  more  easy-going  and  long-suffering,  and  because  women 
are  constantly  wanting  to  use  the  laundry,  wash  in  their  rooms,  or 
do  light  cooking.  Moreover,  it  is  a  very  common  practice  to  require 
women  lodgers  to  do  their  own  room-work,  although  they  have  to 
pay  just  as  much  rent  as  the  men.  She  has  been  the  prey  to  so  many 
sharpers  that  she  is  apt  to  be  suspicious  of  the  stranger  who  asks 
her  about  her  business.  Yet  once  convince  her  that  you  are  in  any 
way  her  friend,  and  she  is  even  eager  to  talk  with  you,  —  evidence, 
well  borne  out  by  other  considerations,  that  the  life  of  the  landlady 
is  often  as  isolated  as  that  of  her  lodger. 


CHAPTER   VIII 

TRADING  IN  FURNITURE  AND  GOOD- WILL 

THE  reason  why  the  average  lodging-house  is  encumbered  with 
so  much  plush  furniture,  tapestry,  etc.,  is  that  the  furnishings,  while 
still  remaining  in  the  same  house,  have  passed  on  from  owner  to 
owner,  from  the  time  of  the  exodus  of  the  private  families  many 
years  ago  to  the  present  day.  This  practice  of  purchasing  the  furni- 
ture of  a  house,  moving  in,  and  taking  possession  of  it  where  it  is, 
is  known  as  "buying  out  a  house."  The  buying  of  a  lodging-house 
is  substantially  the  same  as  buying  a  grocery-store,  or  a  physician's 
practice.  You  buy  the  equipment  or  stock  on  hand,  and  the  cus- 
tom or  good- will  of  the  business.  The  good- will  of  the  lodging-house 
is  its  lodgers,  and  its  reputation,  if  it  has  any. 

There  are  approximately  forty  real-estate  offices  in  or  near  the 
district,  nearly  all  of  which  buy  and  sell  lodging-houses.  Most  of 
them,  in  fact,  make  a  specialty  of  lodging-house  business,  and  be- 
sides buying  and  selling  furniture  and  good-will,  they  deal  in  lodg- 
ing-house real  estate,  act  as  owners'  agents,  and  conduct  room 
registries. 

A  room  registry  is  a  bureau  where  landladies  enroll  their  houses 
and  vacant  rooms,  in  the  hope  of  having  lodgers  sent  to  them.  The 
agent,  on  his  part,  agrees  to  send  lodgers  when  they  apply  to  him 
for  rooms.  The  landlady  is  charged  a  fee  of  one  dollar  for  registra- 
tion, and  either  one  half  or  the  whole  of  the  first  week's  rent  of  any 
lodger  she  may  obtain  through  the  registry.  The  registries  cover 
a  good  deal  of  abuse.  Not  seldom  a  registry  will  obtain  as  many 
registration  fees  as  it  can  and  then  quietly  disappear.  Another  trick 
is  to  send  out  "fake"  or  "straw"  lodgers,  who  stay  only  a  week 
or  two  in  a  place,  thus  reaping  a  continuous  harvest  of  commissions 
for  the  agency. 

The  chief  business  of  many  of  these. real-estate  offices,  however, 
other  than  collecting  rents,  is  trading  in  lodging-houses.  This  is 
a  thoroughly  typical  South  End  industry.  Some  of  the  business  is 


68  THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

done  honestly,  but  there  is  reason  to  believe  that  most  of  it  has  its 
sharp  side,  and  that  much  of  it  is  full  of  downright  trickery  and 
dishonesty.  It  is  not  too  much  to  say  that  very  little  of  the  business 
is  strictly  legitimate,  though  most  of  the  operators  keep  within  the 
letter  of  the  law. 

The  ordinary  method  of  "selling  out  a  house"  is  about  as  fol- 
lows :  Suppose  a  dealer  has  a  house  on  hand.  Of  course  he  is  anx- 
ious to  sell  it.  Some  woman  comes  to  him  who  wants  to  go  into 
the  lodging-house  business.  The  chances  are  she  will  not  have  the 
$800  (about  the  average  price  paid)  necessary  to  pay  for  the  furni- 
ture in  full.  The  dealer  is  just  as  well  pleased  if  she  has  not.  He 
sells  her  the  outfit  for  (say)  $100  down,  and  a  mortgage  of  $700, 
bearing  interest  at  i|  per  cent,  per  month.  Ordinarily  the  furni- 
ture is  to  be  paid  for  by  the  week,  $3  or  $5,  as  the  case  may  be.  If 
the  purchaser  pays  cash  down  or  if  she  keeps  up  her  payments 
punctually  until  the  whole  $700  is  paid,  that  ends  the  matter.  She 
has  been  successful  and  is  in  possession  of  a  house  with  a  good- will. 
She  has  probably  made  a  paying  investment,  as  lodging-houses 
go.  But  if  for  any  reason  she  allows  her  weekly  payments  to  get 
into  arrears,  then  she  may  look  for  trouble. 

The  sale  is  an  installment  sale,  with  all  the  possibilities  of  evil 
attendant  upon  such  transactions.  "The  characteristic  feature  of 
the  installment  sales  is  that  title  to  the  property  remains  in  the 
vender  until  the  full  purchase  price  has  been  paid,  or  else  title  passes 
and  is  immediately  retransferred  to  the  vender  in  the  shape  of  a 
chattel  mortgage."  x  The  latter  method  is  universally  followed  in 
selling  lodging-houses.  The  possibilities  of  abuse  are  at  once  appar- 
ent. A  foreclosure  of  the  mortgage  is  always  hanging  over  the  pur- 
chaser. The  seller  cannot  foreclose  as  long  as  the  weekly  payments 
are  made  regularly,  nor  will  he  be  likely  to  be  strict  in  requiring 
prompt  payment  until  the  purchaser  has  paid  a  large  amount  of 
the  total.  Then,  if  for  any  reason  she  gets  behind,  he  puts  on  the 
screws  hard,  just  as  do  the  installment  dealers  in  new  furniture, 
and  forecloses. 

The  landlady  loses  her  furniture,  her  business,  and  the  money 
she  has  paid  on  the  mortgage.  The  dealer  gains  both  the  interest 

1  H.  R.  Mussey,  The  "Fake"  Installment  Business,  published  by  the  University 
Settlement  Society,  N.  Y.,  1903,  p.  n. 


TRADING  IN  FURNITURE  AND  GOOD-WILL  69 

on  the  mortgage  while  it  was  running  and  the  payments  made  on 
the  principal,  and  he  retains  the  furniture.  Ordinarily  he  does  not 
foreclose  until  he  has  in  sight  another  purchaser,  with  whom,  if 
possible,  he  goes  through  the  same  process. 

The  more  unscrupulous  dealers  do  not  hesitate  to  resort  to  all 
sorts  of  tricks,  not  only  to  persuade  persons  ignorant  of  the  city 
and  its  conditions  to  purchase,  but  also  to  increase  their  fees  and 
commissions  to  an  exorbitant  figure.  The  most  common  device  to 
entice  a  purchaser  is  to  fill  a  house  with  "straw"  lodgers,  who  are 
given  their  room-rent  to  remain  until  the  house  is  sold,  when  they 
decamp,  leaving  the  confiding  landlady  with  an  empty  house.  This 
trick  is  not  confined  to  the  professional  dealers.  A  woman  who 

kept  a  house  on  Street  rented  another  house,  got  a  number 

of  her  own  lodgers  to  room  there  temporarily,  and  sold  the  house 
at  a  great  profit.  Another  landlady  made  a  business  of  selling-out 
houses.  Her  method  was  to  sell  the  house,  and  then  before  the  pur- 
chaser took  possession,  to  take  out  all  the  good  furniture,  substi- 
tuting cheaper  articles.  This  practice  is  known  as  "taking  the 
cream  off,"  but  it  is  simply  common  thievery.  The  "cream"  may 
legitimately  be  taken  off  before  the  sale  is  made,  but  not  after.  The 
removing  of  furniture  after  the  sale,  however,  seems  a  common 
practice.  Purchasers  schooled  in  experience  take  every  precaution 
against  the  trick. 

Among  the  means  of  increasing  commissions  and  fees  may  be 
mentioned  the  following:  Very  often  the  dealer,  as  for  instance  he 
might  do  in  the  case  above,  will  draw  the  mortgage  for  $750  instead 
of  $700,  "to  cover  risks,"  as  he  tells  the  purchaser.  Every  con- 
ceivable chance  of  charging  a  fee  is  seized.  A  fee  is  charged  for 
making  out  all  papers,  another  for  each  notification  of  interest  due, 
etc.  These  are  all  in  the  way  of  evading  the  law,  which  prescribes 
that  i£  per  cent,  per  month  shall  be  the  maximum  rate. 

Perhaps  the  worst  trick  is  the  practice  of  drawing  up  the  mort- 
gage to  cover  everything  in  the  house,  whether  it  was  included  in 
the  original  sale  or  not.  Such  a  document  is  known  as  a  blanket 
mortgage,  and  enables  the  holder,  in  event  of  foreclosure,  to  take 
everything  in  the  house,  provided  it  is  not  more  than  enough  to 
cover  the  indebtedness.  People  signing  the  contract  and  papers  do 
not  stop  to  read  them  carefully;  they  do  not  realize  the  import  of 


70  THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

this  clause;  and  in  general  they  are  green  in  business  matters  and 
in  such  a  hurry  to  get  into  business  that  they  do  not  stop  to  use  cau- 
tion. One  woman  is  said  to  have  lost  her  wedding  silver  in  this  way, 
and  numerous  cases  where  women  have  lost  their  own  household 
belongings,  brought  with  them  to  the  city,  have  come  to  the  writer's 
notice.1  One  or  two  dealers  of  notorious  daring  and  disregard  even 
for  the  letter  of  the  law  have  even  gone  so  far  as  to  seize  the  trunks 
of  lodgers  along  with  the  furniture.  Once  in  a  while  the  lodgers  of 
a  house  come  home  at  night,  and  find  the  whole  house  empty,  furni- 
ture and  all  gone. 

Trading  in  equities  and  selling  of  lodging-house  real  estate  also 
furnishes  a  fruitful  field  for  sharp  practices.2 

Pages  could  be  filled  with  instances  of  injustice,  trouble,  and 
actual  suffering  brought  upon  unsuspecting  people  by  the  machina- 
tions of  these  real-estate  sharpers,  and  by  unscrupulous  people 
already  in  the  lodging-house  business.  The  very  advertisements  of 
some  of  the  dealers  are  drawn  to  catch  the  eye  of  the  ignorant  and 
innocent,  as  for  instance  the  following: 

WANTED,  a  few  more  lodging-houses  for  cash  prices  from  $200  to  $1500; 
if  you  want  to  sell,  call  and  see  me  any  day;  I  will  pay  you  cash  for  a  bargain; 
I  have  sold  7  this  week;  I  will  loan  money  to  every  buyer  and  pay  cash;  peo- 
ple that  want  a  lodging-house  and  have  $50  cash  or  good  security  can  buy  of  me 
and  pay  $2  a  week  until  paid  for;  I  charge  no  commission,  only  $i  for  adver- 
tising.8 

The  prices  paid  for  lodging-houses  range  from  $200  or  $30x3  for 
the  poorest  up  to  $2000  and  over  for  the  best.  The  prices  are  nearly 
always  above  the  actual  value  of  the  house  as  a  going  concern; 

1  Here  is  an  instance:  A  man  and  wife,  whom  we  will  call  the  Smiths,  came  from 
North  Carolina  to  escape  the  climate.    They  were  convinced  by  a  dealer  that  there 
was  money  to  be  made  keeping  lodgers.    They  bought  a  house  from  him,  paying  a 
small  amount  down,  and  so  much  a  month  by  installments.  They  got  slightly  in  arrears 
and  the  dealer  confiscated  all  the  furniture,  not  only  what  they  had  bought  from  him, 
but  what  they  had  brought  with  them  and  what  they  had  added.    A  friend  of  the 
Smiths,  who  had  left  some  furniture  with  them,  had  great  difficulty  in  recovering 
it  from  the  dealer.  The  Smiths,  having  lost  nearly  everything  they  had  in  the  world, 
returned  to  the  South,  where  Mr.  Smith  soon  after  died. 

2  See  Chapter  IX. 

1  Taken  from  the  Boston  Globe.  Almost  identical  advertisements  may  be  found 
in  St.  Louis  papers. 


TRADING  IN  FURNITURE  AND  GOOD-WILL  71 

although  in  few  cases  could  the  house  be  refitted  with  new  furni- 
ture for  the  same  price.  People  would  rather  buy  out  old  furniture 
than  take  the  risk  of  fitting  up  a  house  anew  at  great  expense  and 
then  wait  indefinitely  for  lodgers.  If  the  house  is  bought  as  it  stands, 
and  there  is  no  trickery,  some  lodgers  nearly  always  go  with  it. 
There  is  much  trading  among  people  already  in  the  business. 
Landladies  are  generally  confident  that  they  could  do  better  in  some 
other  location.  Many  are  anxious  to  get  out  of  the  business,  and 
are  glad  to  sell  when  some  one  from  the  Provinces  or  rural  New 
England  comes  to  buy.  -One  agent  is  said  to  have  sold  a  certain 
house  ten  times  within  a  year,  and  all  indications,  such  as  the 
excessive  number  of  houses  advertised  for  sale,  show  an  unhealthy 
activity  in  this  line. 

With  a  word  as  to  the  number  of  mortgages  on  furniture  in  the 
South  End,  we  will  close  this  chapter.  Between  September  15,  1902, 
and  January  20,  1903,  one  dealer  and  money-lender  had  recorded 
over  twenty  mortgages.  Between  September  4,  1902,  and  March  4, 
1903,  another  dealer  had  recorded  twenty-five  mortgages.  So  far 
as  could  be  told  from  the  records  these  two  were  the  largest  dealers 
in  mortgages,  but  many  other  mortgages  were  recorded  from  the 
lodging-house  district.  The  amounts  range  from  $50  up,  but  fall 
for  the  most  part  much  below  $500.  It  is  certain  that  a  large  amount 
of  lodging-house  furniture  is  mortgaged,  and  that  means  generally 
that  it  has  been  purchased  on  the  installment  plan  and  is  not  yet 
paid  for.  It  is  but  one  more  sidelight  thrown  upon  the  complex 
economic  and  moral  struggle  going  on  under  the  calm  exterior  of 
the  district. 


CHAPTER   IX 

THE    REAL-ESTATE    SITUATION    IN    THE    LODGING-HOUSE    DISTRICT 

THE  key  to  the  South  End  real-estate  situation  is  the  pronounced 
depreciation  in  values  that  has  been  going  on  for  the  past  twenty 
years.  Real-estate  men  almost  without  exception  acknowledge  that 
the  depreciation  has  been  between  twenty  and  fifty  per  cent,  and 
that  the  outlook  for  recovery  is  not  bright.  Absolute  proof  of  the 
fall  is  to  be  had  from  the  assessors'  books. 

Before  applying  this  evidence,  however,  we  must  ask  what  the 
relation  is,  in  Boston,  between  real  value  and  assessed  valuation. 
One  authority,  speaking  of  the  city  as  a  whole,  and  not  of  any  par- 
ticular district  or  class  of  property,  states  that  "while  unlike  most 
of  the  larger  cities  of  the  country  the  assessments  in  Boston  are 
supposed  to  be  the  full  market  value  of  the  property  in  ordinary 
times  and  under  usual  conditions,"  it  is  nevertheless  safe  to  say 
that  they  are  only  about  eighty  per  cent,  of  what  the  real  estate 
would  bring  at  sale.1  In  districts  where  the  market  value  of  real 
estate  is  rising  it  may  well  be  that  the  assessed  valuations  are  not 
rising  as  rapidly,  although  the  assessors  claim  to  keep  fully  abreast 
.of  the  market  price.  In  districts  where  values  are  falling,  on  the 
other  hand,  a  natural  tendency,  both  on  the  part  of  the  assessors 
and  on  that  of  the  owners,  is  manifest  to  keep  the  assessments  up 
to  the  old  rate  as  long  as  possible.  The  city  officials  are  not  anxious 
to  reduce  the  tax  income  of  the  city,  and  the  owners  as  a  rule 
consider  that  a  steady  decline  of  recorded  assessed  valuations  will 
be  a  disadvantage  to  them  in  getting  a  fair  price  for  their  property. 
Whatever  differences  may  exist,  therefore,  as  to  the  relations  between 
assessed  valuations  and  real  values,  taking  the  city  at  large,  it  is 
generally  acknowledged  that  in  the  South  End  lodging-house 
section  assessments  are  as  a  rule  above  real  value.  Comprehensive 
proof  of  this  could  be  obtained  by  a  comparison  of  selling  prices 

1  Henry  Whitmore,  Real-Estate  Values  in  Boston,  Publications  of  the  American 
Statistical  Association,  March,  1896. 


REAL  ESTATE  IN   THE  DISTRICT 


73 


and  assessed  values  for  the  whole  district  over  a  series  of  years. 
Indication  of  what  the  result  would  be  is  to  be  had  in  the  following 
table,  for  Union  Park,  from  1869  to 


TABLE  24. 


ASSESSED  VALUATIONS  AND  SELLING  PRICES 

Excess  of  sell-      Excess  of  assessed 


ing  price  over      valuation  over  sell- 

assessed  valu-       ing  price. 

Year. 

Assessed  valuation. 

Selling  price. 

ation. 

1869 

$23,000 

$24,000 

$1,000  "I 

1869 

21,000 

23,000 

2,000    1          „ 

1869 

18,000 

19,650 

1,650  [  I9/0 

1869 

17,000 

25,000 

8,000  < 

1869 

24,000 

31,000 

7,000 

1870 

21,500 

22,000 

500 

1870 

14,000 

19,000 

5,000 

•  13.5% 

1870 

14,000 

16,750 

2,750 

1870 

18,000 

21,350 

3,350 

1870 

17,000 

22,000 

5,000^ 

1871 

17,000 

19,750 

2,750 

1871 

18,100 

22,250 

4,150, 

1872 

22,200 

24,000 

i,  800 

1872 

18,000 

20,000 

2,000 

1872 

15,300 

15,550 

250 

Of 

1872 

16,800 

19,000 

2,200 

'  II-5/o 

1872 

18,000 

21,500 

3,5oo 

1872 

38,000 

43,000 

5,ooo  , 

1874 

17,100 

18,000 

900^ 

1874 

17,100 

18,000 

900 

,4% 

1874 

18,100 

19,000 

900 

1874 

15,300 

15,375 

75, 

1875 

15,500 

15,000 

500 

1876 

17,000 

18,000 

1,000 

1878 

15,500 

14,000 

1,500 

1880 

13,200 

13,200 

1882 

14,500 

13,000 

1,500 

1882 

17,400 

18,000 

600 

1882 

14,400 

15,000 

600 

1882 

14,100 

15,000 

900 

1882 

12,700 

13,000 

300 

1882 

12,700 

15,000 

2,300 

1883 

13,200 

12,550 

650 

1  The  data  were  obtained  from  the  assessors'  books,  except  in  a  few  instances 
where  the  records  of  deeds  yielded  a  little  information.  Unfortunately  practically 
no  selling  prices  are  recorded  after  1887,  the  invariable  record  being  "considera- 
tion $r." 


74          THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

1883  10,700        14,000     3,300 

1884  13,400        15,000     1,600 
1884      13,000        13,000 

1884  14,000        14,000 

1885  12,000        12,000 

1886  13,000        12,100  900 

1886  15,100  13,900  1,200 

1887  13,700  12,000  1,700 

The  table  shows  that  up  to  probably  1875  the  real  value  was  in 
excess  of  assessed  valuation.  For  the  next  ten  years  real  and  assessed 
values  do  not  differ  greatly,  but  beginning  with  1885  we  have  assess- 
ments in  excess  of  real  value.  It  is  worthy  of  note  that  assessments 
began  to  exceed  real  values  at  about  the  time  of  the  most  rapid 
change  from  private  residences  to  lodging-houses  in  the  district. 

If  assessed  valuations  thirty  years  ago  had  borne  the  same  rela- 
tion to  real  values  as  is  the  case  now,  the  fall  of  South  End  real 
estate  would  appear  much  more  pronounced  than  is  actually 
revealed  by  the  assessors'  books.  The  assessments  then  seem  to 
have  been  from  ten  to  fifteen  per  cent,  below  the  real  value,  while 
to-day  they  are  probably  as  much  above.  In  using  the  assessed 
valuations  over  a  long  series  of  years  as  a  criterion  of  real  value 
and  its  fluctuations  we  are  on  entirely  conservative  ground. 

Table  25  gives  the  assessed  valuation  of  real  estate  on  Union  Park 
from  1868  to  1902.  Time  did  not  permit  the  collection  of  valuations 
for  other  streets,  nor  was  it  possible,  without  an  undue  expenditure 
of  labor,  to  carry  the  table  back  of  1868.  The  books  for  the  earlier 
years  are  difficult  of  access,  and  changes  in  ward  lines,  variations  in 
arrangement  and  naming  of  streets,  and  the  like,  increase  the 
difficulties. 

TABLE  25.     ASSESSED  VALUATION,  FIFTY  HOUSES,  UNION  PARK, 

1868-1905 

1868 $824,000      1887 $661,600 

1869 937,000        1888 619,200 

1870 899,200       1889 619,200 

1871 865,200       1890 619,200 

1872 888,100       1891 618,100 

1873 891,500       1892 618,200 

1874 891,700       1893 618,200 


REAL  ESTATE  IN  THE  DISTRICT  75 

1875 892,300  1894 617,700 

1876 843,300  1895 618,700 

1877 788,300  1896 621,700 

1878 745,500  1897 626,400 

1879 727,100  1898 620,400 

1880 727,400  1899 620,300 

1881 722,400  1900 612,300 

1882 663,500  1901 612,300 

1883 663,900  1902 578,400 

1884 663,500  1003 598,300 

1885 663,400  1904 598,300 

1886 663,700  1905 544,8oo 

The  table,  showing  a  fall  from  $937,00x3  in  1869  to  $578,000  in  1902, 
and  finally  to  $544,800  in  i9O5>  even  allowing  for  the  pecuniary 
disturbances  of  the  Civil  War  and  the  '70%  speaks  for  itself.  The 
average  value  of  each  house  in  1875  was  $17,846;  in  1902  it  was 
only  $11,568,  and  in  1905  only  $10,896.  The  decline  in  thirty  years 
was  thus  nearly  38.4  %.1  Individual  houses  can  be  selected  showing 
much  larger  declines.  Chart  vn  shows  graphically  the  facts  of 
Table  25. 

The  tremendous  decline  of  South  End  real-estate  values  is  an 
incontestable  fact.  We  have  said  already  that  the  decline  began 
on  Columbus  Avenue  and  was  due  to  the  crisis  of  '73.  Chart  vn 
shows  that  in  Union  Park  also  the  decline  began  soon  after  that 
year.  The  crisis  was  undoubtedly  the  prime  cause  for  the  deprecia- 
tion setting  in.  The  impending  opening-up  of  the  Back  Bay  lands 
removed  any  hope  of  recovery.  The  exodus  of  the  resident  families 
only  helped  to  intensify  the  fall  in  values.  Such  original  owners  as 
have  retained  their  property  have  experienced  a  disheartening 
shrinkage  in  its  value.  The  following  are  a  few  samples : 

TABLE  26.    LOSSES  SUSTAINED  BY  PRESENT  OWNERS.    (SAMPLES) 

Present  owner 

has  held  since  Selling  price  then          Assessed  valuation,  1902      Loss 

$24,000  $17,100  $6,900 

13,000  11,700  1,300 

21,500  12,500  9,000 

19,000  10,800  8,200 

22,000  12,100  9,900 

1  Three  corner  houses,  which  have  been  remodeled  either  as  apartments  or  by 
putting  in  stores,  are  omitted  from  these  calculations. 


76          THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

It  is  but  fair  to  remember,  however,  that  such  losses  are  not  actually 
so  great  as  they  seem,  notwithstanding  that  they  would  appear 
still  larger  could  we  judge  of  present  value  by  market  prices  instead 
of  assessed  valuations,  because  the  loss  has  been  largely  on  the 
house,  and  was  to  some  extent  at  least  to  have  been  expected.  An 
old  house  is  not  supposed  to  bring  a  high  price  any  more  than  an 
old  coat.  Some  decline  in  values  in  the  South  End  would  probably 
have  occurred  even  had  it  continued  a  residential  section.  This 
necessity  of  decline  is  well  expressed  by  a  recent  writer:  "When 
the  public,"  he  says,  "have  been  educated  to  prefer  light  stone  or 
brick  houses  to  the  old-fashioned  brown-stone  front,  and  modern 
interior  arrangements,  decorations,  and  plumbing  to  former  styles 
of  equipment,  the  old  value  of  the  house  has  about  departed."  1 
Furthermore,  it  is  probable  that  the  value  of  South  End  dwelling- 
houses  has  touched  about  its  lowest  point.  The  value  of  the  land 
in  the  future  should  counterbalance  the  decline  in  the  value  of  the 
house.  The  great  losses  have  already  been  sustained  by  former 
owners  and  are  irreparable.  Present  owners,  whether  they  have 
held  the  property  long  or  not,  must  accept  the  situation,  and  cannot 
reasonably  expect  to  reap  a  rental  income  based  on  the  former  value 
of  their  property.  In  estimating  the  return  that  present  owners  are 
receiving  we  shall  therefore  reckon  it  upon  present  value,  or,  more 
conservatively,  upon  present  assessed  valuation. 

It  is  an  old  traditional  rule  in  the  real-estate  business  that  a 
fair  rent  for  a  dwelling-house  is  ten  per  cent,  annually  of  its  value. 
This  generally  means  from  6  per  cent,  to  7  per  cent,  net  income 
on  the  investment.  Opinions  of  real-estate  men  differ  as  to  whether 
owners  of  lodging-house  property  are  getting  a  fair  return.  The 
average  rent  of  sixteen  houses  on  Union  Park,  Upton  Street,  and 
West  Canton  Street  was  found  by  the  writer  to  be  a  little  over 
9  per  cent,  of  the  assessed  valuation.  Whether  this  rate  holds  good 
over  the  lodging-house  district  as  a  whole  we  have  no  means  of 
knowing,  but  we  shall  not  be  far  wrong  in  assuming  that  it  does. 
It  means  that  a  house  assessed  at  $12,000  will  rent  for  $1080.  To 
derive  the  net  income  from  this  gross  rental,  we  must  deduct  taxes, 
repairs,  agent's  commission,  and  a  certain  amount  for  depreciation. 
In  1902-3  the  tax- rate  in  Boston  was  $14.80  per  thousand.  Agent's 

1  Hurd,  Principles  of  City  Land  Values,  N.  Y.  1903,  p.  108. 


-$ 


REAL  ESTATE  IN   THE  DISTRICT  77 

commission  is  generally  five  per  cent,  of  the  gross  rent.  On  old  but 
still  substantial  residences,  like  these,  we  should  deduct  from  4  to 
5  per  cent,  for  repairs,  and  about  i£  per  cent,  for  depreciation.1 
The  annual  account  will  then  stand  somewhat  as  follows :  — 

Rental  income,  9%  of  Taxes  @  $1480  per  mille $177.60 

$12,000 $1080.00     Repairs  @  5%  of  $1080 54.00 

Agent's  commission 54.00 

Depreciation  @  ij%  of  value 180.00 

Total $465.60 

Balance  (Net  income  on  as- 

sessed  value) 614.40 

$1080.00  $1080.00 


Allowing  for  insurance  this  represents  an  annual  net  income  of 
nearly  5  per  cent,  on  the  assessed  valuation;  and  as  these  are  above 
real  value,  it  is  safe  to  say  that  the  net  income  is  fully  5  per  cent,  of 
the  real  value.  We  have  made  ample  allowance  for  the  fixed  expenses. 
As  a  matter  of  fact  the  average  owner  of  lodging-house  property 
will  often  do  without  an  agent,  and  reduce  the  repair  bill  to  a  ridicu- 
lously low  figure.  Evidences  of  decay  are  apparent  all  over  the 
district,  and  real-estate  dealers  state  that  owners  are  not  keeping 
their  property  in  good  repair.  Broadly  speaking,  then,  it  seems 
that  the  South  End  property-owner  manages  as  a  rule  to  reap  a  fair 
return  upon  the  value  of  his  property.  Of  the  three  classes  involved 
in  the  lodging-house  problem,  —  the  lodgers,  the  lodging-house 
keepers,  and  the  owners, — the  latter  seem  to  have  least  to  complain  of. 
Yet  the  landlords  are  to  a  great  extent  just  the  class  who  would 
object  most  strenuously  to  any  curtailment  of  their  moderate 
income.  In  part  they  are  the  heirs  of  the  old  residents.  In  large  part, 
also,  they  are  persons  of  moderate  means  who  have  invested  a  few 
thousand  dollars  in  lodging-house  property.  Their  ranks  include 
dressmakers,  clerks,  carpenters,  bakers,  musicians,  foremen, 
teamsters,  cashiers,  machinists,  bookkeepers,  physicians,  jewelers, 
printers,  bankers  and  brokers,  florists,  lawyers,  real-estate  agents, 
and  various  kinds  of  merchants  and  dealers.  Of  270  houses  1 16  were 
found  registered  on  the  record  of  deeds  in  the  names  of  women; 
but  this  does  not  necessarily  mean  that  so  large  a  proportion  are 

1  Hurd,  Principles  of  City  Land  Values,  pp.  127-8,  107. 


78          THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

actually  owned  by  women,  since  the  house  often  stands  in  the  wife's 
name  when  the  property  really  belongs  to  the  husband. 

Some  of  these  persons  have  undoubtedly  been  hoodwinked  into 
buying  lodging-house  real  estate  at  good  round  prices  by  unscrupu- 
lous dealers,  and  to  such  a  reduction  of  rental  income  might  come 
as  something  of  a  hardship.  A  considerable  amount  of  crooked 
business  is  done  in  lodging-house  real  estate,  though  not  so  much 
as  there  is  in  furniture  and  good-will.  Trading  in  equities  and 
juggling  with  mortgages  are  common  processes.  Real  estate  of 
speculative  value,  like  apartment-houses  in  course  of  construction, 
and  property  depreciating  in  value,  like  South  End  lodging-houses, 
are  especially  adapted  to  this  kind  of  manipulation.  Trading  in 
equities  is  a  process  by  which  the  unwary  are  made  to  pay  highly 
for  lodging-house  real  estate  and  often  to  lose  all  they  invest.  Sup- 
pose, for  example,  that  Smith  owns  a  house  which  he  values  at 
$16,000,  but  which  on  the  market  would  not  sell  for  anything  like 
that  amount.  Suppose  also  that  this  property  is  mortgaged  for 
$10,000.  Suppose,  further,  that  Jones,  an  individual  entirely 
unacquainted  with  the  tricks  and  turns  of  city  real  estate,  owns  a 
piece  of  land  in  the  country  which  he  values  at  $3000.  Smith  gets 
Jones  into  a  "deal,"  and  allows  him  to  set  the  value  of  his  land  at 
$4000  provided  the  city  property  be  set  at  $20,000.  Jones  assumes 
the  mortgage  of  $10,000,  gives  Smith  a  second  mortgage  of  $6000 
to  cover  the  balance  of  the  $16,000,  and  deeds  over  the  land  to  cover 
the  additional  $4000  of  the  $20,000.  Smith  is  now  the  owner  of  land 
worth  $3000  and  he  holds  a  mortgage  of  $6000  on  the  town  house. 
Jones  holds  a  house  worth  perhaps  $14,000  mortgaged  for  $16,000, 
on  which  sum  he  has  to  pay  interest.  As  time  goes  on,  Jones  may 
very  likely  be  unable  to  meet  his  interest  payments,  the  mortgages 
are  foreclosed,  and  the  house  is  sold  at  auction.  It  will  not  bring 
$16,000,  but  it  will  yield  something  over  and  above  the  $10,000 
necessary  to  pay  off  the  first  mortgage,  and  this  excess  is  pocketed 
by  Smith.  Jones  loses  everything,  while  Smith  retains  the  land  in 
the  country  and  $3000  or  $4000  in  cash. 

What  will  be  the  future  of  real  estate  in  the  lodging-house  district 
is  hard  to  say.  At  various  times  real-estate  dealers  have  thought 
they  saw  rays  of  hope.  The  Back  Bay  station  was  expected  to  create 
a  centre  of  traffic  and  business,  in  what  is  now  a  negro  lodging-house 


REAL  ESTATE  IN  THE  DISTRICT  79 

district.  The  inconvenience  of  the  noisy  elevated  road  on  Washington 
Street  was  expected  to  cause  a  shifting  of  real  estate  business  to 
Shawmut  Avenue,  nearer  the  centre  of  the  lodging-house  section. 
But  neither  of  these  hopes  was  realized. 

At  the  present  time  a  movement  is  on  foot  to  modify  the  tene- 
ment-house law  to  permit  the  remodeling  of  lodging-houses  into 
tenements  without  inserting  steel  beams,  fireproof  materials,  and 
other  expensive  requirements  which  hitherto  have  made  it  econom- 
ically impossible  to  "make  down"  a  lodging-house.  At  present  the 
rules  for  first-class  construction  apply  to  such  remodeled  houses. 
On  April  15,  1903,  the  mayor  appointed  a  commission  "  to  investi- 
gate tenement- house  conditions  in  the  city  of  Boston."  This  com- 
mission submitted  its  report  May  18,  1904,  and  in  it  makes  refer- 
ence to  the  peculiar  needs  of  the  South  End. 

"The  commission  recognizes  the  justice  of  the  complaint  of 
many  property-owners  of  the  South  and  West  Ends  that  present 
laws  make  it  practically  impossible  for  them  to  reconstruct  dwelling- 
houses  into  four-story  apartment-houses  without  incurring  a  burden 
of  expense  greater  than  the  possible  income  will  warrant.  As  a 
result  most  of  these  houses,  no  longer  occupied  as  formerly  by  a 
well-to-do  class  of  single  families,  have  become  boarding-  and 
lodging-houses,  and  there  has  been  a  general  depreciation  in  their 
value.  It  would  seem  both  safe  and  wise  to  provide  for  the  altera- 
tion of  such  houses  into  tenement-houses  of  second-class  construc- 
tion by  relaxing  the  requirements  that  they  be  '  plastered  on  incom- 
bustible materials  throughout,'  and  removing  the  limitation  of 
the  number  of  families  which  may  occupy  each  house.  If  the  stair- 
ways are  made  fireproof  and  the  rooms  be  properly  lighted  and 
ventilated,  if  also  there  be  sufficient  open  area  on  the  lot  each 
house  occupies,  there  will  be  no  increase  of  danger  in  the  recon- 
struction proposed."  *  And  again  in  a  minority  report  by  Mr. 
Samuel  M.  Child:  "Within  the  last  thirty  years  the  character  and 
occupation  of  a  large  section  of  the  city  has  materially  changed; 
I  refer  especially  to  the  West  and  South  Ends,  so-called,  covered 
with  substantial,  well-built,  brick  houses  on  wide  streets,  and 
ample  yard-room  in  the  rear.  Under  the  present  building  laws  it 

1  Report  of  the  Commission  appointed  by  the  Mayor  to  investigate  Tenement- 
House  Conditions  in  the  City  of  Boston  (City  Document  no.  77,  1904),  p.  3. 


80          THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

is  impossible  to  remodel  these  buildings  and  adapt  them  to  the 
changed  conditions  and  needs  of  the  community.  There  is  no 
reason,  in  my  opinion,  why  any  existing  brick  building  in  the  city 
limits,  built  as  a  dwelling  for  a  single  family,  might  not  with  safety 
be  remodeled  into  suites  —  a  tenement  on  a  floor,  using  second- 
class  construction,  so-called.  This  will  house  a  large  proportion 
of  the  community  comfortably  and  within  the  means  of  the  average 
wage-earner  for  many  years." 1  There  was  thus  unanimity  of  opinion 
in  the  commission  that  owners  of  lodging-houses,  or  old  dwelling- 
houses,  not  more  than  four  stories  in  height,  should  be  allowed 
to  remodel  them  into  tenements  without  undergoing  the  expensive 
requirements  of  the  present  law.  Should  this  be  done,  i.  e.,  the  rules 
for  second-class  construction  made  applicable,  lodging-houses  can 
be  changed  into  tenement-houses  or  flats  at  moderate  cost,  or  they 
can  be  remodeled  so  as  to  fill  more  satisfactorily  than  now  the 
precise  use  of  a  lodging-house  by  having  a  large  number  of  small 
rooms  and  more  adequate  sanitary  equipment.  It  is  to  be  hoped 
that  this  change  will  be  made,  as  it  would  go  far  toward  relieving 
the  real-estate  situation  in  the  South  End.2  The  demand  for  tene- 
ments and  cheap  apartments  is  much  heavier  than  for  lodging- 
houses.3  The  change  would  therefore  help  property-holders.  It 
would  be  of  social  value,  also,  for  it  would  create  a  supply  of  moder- 
ate-priced flats  within  easy  walking  distance  of  the  down-town 
business  district.  It  would  break  up  the  compactness  of  the  lodging- 
house  district,  suggest  home  and  family  to  the  now  too  often  callous 
lodger,  and  perhaps  help  greatly  in  solving  the  moral  problem  of 
the  district.4 

1  Report  of  the  Commission  appointed  by  the  Mayor  to  investigate  Tenement- 
House  Conditions  in  the  City  of  Boston  (City  Document  no.  77,  1904),  pp.  46,  47. 

2  Cf.  Report  of  the  aforesaid  commission,  pp.  3,  9,  41,  46,  47,  48,  and  50. 

3  Cf.  Boston  Transcript  for  December  10,  1903. 

4  Cf.  Chapters  xvn  and  xvm. 


CHAPTER   X 

THE  LODGER:  GENERAL  CHARACTERISTICS  OF  THE  LODGING-HOUSE 

POPULATION 

THE  lodgers  are  numerically  and  in  every  other  way  the  most 
important  class  with  whom  this  investigation  has  to  deal.  We  shall 
perhaps  best  gain  a  general  notion  of  the  class  by  first  analyzing 
its  sex  and  age,  conjugal  condition,  nationality,  and  occupation, 
and  by  ascertaining  as  best  we  may  whence  the  lodgers  come  and 
why  they  are  lodgers. 

The  South  End  lodging-house  population  was  briefly  and  well 
described  in  1898  in  "The  City  Wilderness:"  "They  really  compose 
those  of  the  working  classes  who  are  single,  with  a  few  married 
couples  who  have  not  yet  made  themselves  homes;  that  is,  they 
stand  for  the  large  number  of  unmarried  persons  who  have  come 
to  Boston  from  the  distance  to  make  their  fortunes  —  and  have 
not  yet  made  them."  Naturally  most  lodgers  have  come  from  other 
cities  and  towns  and  from  the  country.  Were  they  native  to  Boston, 
most  of  them  would  have  had  parents  whom  they  would  not  have 
left  till  ready  to  marry  and  set  up  homes  of  their  own. 

As  stated  in  "The  City  Wilderness,"  the  lodger  class  is  not  really 
characterized  by  nationality.  Although  we  find  representatives  of 
almost  every  country,  roomers  are  far  more  homogeneous  racially 
than  the  tenement- house  population.  The  houses  of  the  West  End 
contain  a  larger  proportion  of  Irish  than  those  of  the  South  End, 
but  with  some  few  Germans  and  a  sprinkling  of  Irish  and  English, 
the  great  mass  remain  Americans  and  Canadians. 

The  Americans,  who  constitute  by  far  the  largest  single  ethnic 
element,  are  mostly  from  New  England  and  New  York.  They  are 
the  farm  boys  and  young  fellows  from  rural  New  England  towns, 
who  come  to  the  Hub  with  a  film  of  glorious  prospects  before  their 
eyes,  to  be  clerks  and  salesmen,  to  enter  business  colleges  and 
blossom  out  as  bookkeepers  at  six  dollars  a  week.  They  are  skilled 
mechanics  who  come  from  other  cities  to  help  in  the  industries 


82          THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

of  Boston.  They  are  negroes  of  the  South,  who,  attracted  by  wider 
opportunities  than  the  conservatism  of  the  South  will  afford  them, 
and  by  an  already  extensive  colony  of  their  race,  come  to  Boston 
in  the  hope  of  bettering  their  condition.  They  are  young  girls  who 
come  from  rocky  farms  and  hill  towns  to  escape  the  irksome  drudg- 
ery and  monotony' of  petty  household  duties;  girls  who  have  grown 
tired,  very  early  in  their  lives,  perhaps,  of  helping  their  mothers 
wash  the  dishes  and  pare  the  potatoes,  and  who  have  set  their  eyes 
to  the  city  as  a  sort  of  Mecca  for  all  in  search  of  opportunity.  They 
come  to  struggle  along  as  clerks  and  stenographers,  as  milliners  and 
dressmakers,  as  fancy-workers,  nurses,  and  waitresses.  Not  a  few 
come  as  students,  to  have  their  hearts  gnawed  at  by  homesickness, 
and  to  starve  themselves  on  one  meal  a  day,  for  the  sake  of  an  idea. 

The  Canadians  come  mostly  from  the  Lower  Provinces,  and  as 
a  rule  do  not  intend  to  remain  long  in  Boston.  This  is  more  espe- 
cially true  of  the  girls,  a  large  number  of  whom  come  as  domestic 
servants,  and  who  always  have  hosts  of  cousins  and  other  relatives 
scattered  about  in  the  lodging-houses.  Those  who  are  not  house- 
hold servants  are  manicurists,  dressmakers,  waitresses,  and  the  like. 

The  sexes  seem  about  equally  divided.  According  to  the  State 
Census  of  1895,  65.1  per  cent,  of  the  lodgers  were  males,  but  as 
this  applies  to  all  conditions  of  lodgers,  wherever  found,  whether 
in  suburban  districts  or  in  the  lowest  cheap  houses  of  the  West  End, 
it  has  little  value  for  us. 

While  the  lodging-class  is  characterized,  as  we  shall  see,  by  the 
absence  of  children,  and  by  an  age-grouping  in  the  productive 
period  of  life;  while  also  it  is  characteristically  a  class  of  unmar- 
ried persons,  on  the  one  hand  fairly  homogeneous  in  nationality, 
and  on  the  other  extremely  heterogeneous  in  occupation;  still  none 
of  these  traits  would  in  itself  so  sharply  differentiate  it  from  other 
classes  as  does  the  fact  that  above  all  the  lodging-house  class  is 
a  floating  population,  or,  as  a  noted  French  economist  has  called 
it,  a  population  nomade.1  The  following  table  is  instructive  on  this 
point: 

1  Leroy-Beaulieu,  in  Repartition  des  Richesses.   See  post,  p.  105. 


THE  LODGER:    GENERAL  CHARACTERISTICS          83 

TABLE  27.  NUMBER  OF  ADULT  MALE  LODGERS,  (A)  WHO  CHANGED, 
AND  (B)  WHO  DID  NOT  CHANGE  THEIR  PLACE  OF  RESIDENCE 
BETWEEN  MAY  I,  1902,  AND  MAY  I,  1903 

NOTE.  The  column  headed  "Here"  includes  all  lodgers  who  were  in  the  same 
house  at  both  dates;  that  headed  "Out  of  Boston"  those  who  on  May  i,  1902,  were 
living  outside  the  city;  that  headed  "In  Boston"  those  who  were  living  in  the  city, 
but  at  some  other  address;  and  that  headed  "Unknown"  those  whose  addresses 
on  the  earlier  date  could  not  be  ascertained  by  the  police,  who  made  the  canvass. 

Out  of 
Total        Here        Boston        In  Boston        Unknown 

Ward  12,  Precinct  i  737  383  115  164  75 

Ward  12,  Precinct  2  843  440  99  195  109 

Ward  12,  Precinct  3  454  225  57  129  43 

Ward  12,  Precinct  4  873  450  132  222  69 

Ward  12,  Precinct  5  600  278  95  174  53 

Ward  12,  Precinct  6  514  302  63  115  34 

Ward  12,  Precinct  7  285  180  20  68  17 

Ward    9,  Precinct  5  1039  450  165  309  115 

Ward    9,  Precinct  6  852  400  119  234  99 

Ward  10,  Precinct  3  674  311  195  93  75 

Ward  10,  Precinct  4  631  301  209  71  50 

Ward  10,  Precinct  5  549  259  92  in  87 

Ward  10,  Precinct  6  790  358  233  93  106 

Totals  8,841       4,337       1,594  1,978  932 

Per  cent,  of  total  100.      49.03       18.04          22.38  IO-55 


Total  per  cent,  known  living  elsewhere  40.42 


Total  per  cent,  living  elsewhere  5°-97 

A  word  of  explanation  will  make  clear  the  meaning  of  this  table. 
The  Annual  Precinct  Lists  of  Male  Residents  give  not  only  the 
name,  age,  occupation,  and  present  address  of  each  man  twenty 
years  old  or  over,  but  also  his  address  a  year  previous,  where  it 
could  be  ascertained.  The  table  shows  that,  out  of  the  total  of 
8841  lodgers  included,  only  49  per  cent,  had  not  changed  their 
place  of  abode  during  the  year.  There  is  no  reason  to  suppose  that 
the  facts  would  appear  differently  for  women  lodgers,  had  we  any 
data  wherewith  to  judge  their  case. 

To  make  this  matter  perfectly  clear  it  may  not  be  out  of  place 
to  see  at  a  given  date  what  the  distribution  was  a  year  before  of 


84          THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

lodgers  in  a  few  individual  houses,  taken  at  random.  In  one  house, 
for  instance,  out  of  a  total  of  fifteen  male  lodgers,  only  five  had 
been  there  as  long  as  a  year.  In  a  house  on  Columbus  Avenue 
nine  male  lodgers  had  been  distributed  as  follows:  a  furniture 
dealer  and  a  librarian  had  been  there  as  much  as  a  year,  two  musi- 
cians had  come  from  other  addresses  in  the  city,  a  student  from 
Georgetown,  a  bookkeeper  from  New  Hampshire,  another  student 
from  Michigan,  another  from  Dedham,  and  a  merchant  from  a 
previous  address  unknown.  In  a  house  on  Concord  Square,  with 
six  male  lodgers,  none  had  been  there  a  year  before;  two,  a  clerk 
and  a  reporter,  had  come  from  Worcester;  a  draftsman  came 
from  Maine,  a  polisher  from  .Duxbury,  and  two  salesmen  from 
some  other  part  of  the  city.  In  a  house  in  Waltham  Street,  which 
had  an  unusually  large  number  of  male  lodgers,  twenty-three  in  all, 
eight  had  been  there  a  year  or  more,  —  a  steam-fitter,  a  fireman, 
a  dancing-master,  a  brick-layer,  a  printer,  and  an  elevator- man; 
seven  had  lived  elsewhere  in  the  city  —  a  photographer,  a  painter, 
a  collector,  a  carpet-layer,  a  foreman,  a  mason,  and  a  janitor.  Of 
the  remaining  men,  a  waiter  had  come  from  Lynn,  a  bartender 
from  Ireland,  a  brakeman  from  Montana,  a  provision-dealer  and 
a  clerk  from  Nova  Scotia,  a  salesman  from  Waltham,  a  carpenter 
from  New  York,  and  a  machinist  from  Quincy.  Such  a  list  could 
be  extended  indefinitely. 

It  is  interesting  also  to  note  in  this  connection  that  out  of  a  list 
of  the  addresses  of  nearly  three  hundred  and  fifty  members,  kindly 
furnished  us  by  one  of  the  city's  largest  organizations  for  young 
men,  we  found  that  probably  two  thirds  had  been  changed  within 
eight  months.  One  of  the  largest  churches  in  the  South  End  has  a 
card  catalogue  containing  the  names  of  some  five  thousand  lodgers. 
The  pastor  says  he  would  be  glad  if  half  the  addresses  were  correct. 

The  fact  that  nearly  20  per  cent,  of  the  lodgers  now  in  Boston 
were  a  year  ago  living  outside  the  city  is  merely  a  phase  of  the  great 
movement,  the  constant  flow,  of  population  from  country  to  city, 
which  we  have  mentioned  in  an  earlier  chapter.  Various  causes  may 
be  assigned  for  the  great  amount  of  moving  from  place  to  place  within 
the  city.  Dissatisfaction  with  rooms  and  room-mates,  the  idea  that 
some  other  place  is  better,  or  at  least  not  so  bad,  pure  restlessness 
under  distressingly  irksome  surroundings,  change  in  place  of 


THE  LODGER:    GENERAL  CHARACTERISTICS          85 

employment,  change  of  landladies,  or  discontinuance  of  the  house 
in  which  they  lodged,  are  all  causes  of  an  incessant  ebb  and  flow 
of  lodgers  from  one  house  and  one  locality  to  another. 

This  extreme  fluidity  of  the  lodging-house  population  makes  it 
a  difficult  one  to  manipulate  —  for  any  one  but  the  ward  politicians, 
who  find  it  much  to  their  taste.  A  difficulty  scarcely  less  important, 
in  the  way  of  social  betterment,  is  the  heterogeneity  of  occupation, 
to  which  the  following  chapter  is  devoted. 


CHAPTER   XI 
THE  LODGER:   OCCUPATION 

LIKE  most  other  urban  statistics,  those  of  occupation  are  published 
by  wards  only,  and  not  by  precincts  or  blocks,  as  would  be  necessary 
for  a  segregation  of  the  statistics  of  occupations  for  lodgers.  We  are 
therefore  forced  to  resort  to  other  data.  The  only  source  from  which 
it  seems  possible  to  derive  any  statistical  information  whatever 
for  occupations  is  the  series  of  Precinct  Lists  of  Male  Residents. 
Any  one  sufficiently  acquainted  with  the  minute  local  geography 
of  the  lodging-house  district  can  use  these  voting-lists  to  reach 
some  estimation  of  the  vocational  constitution  of  the  lodger  class. 
By  an  intelligent  use  of  the  lists  we  can  exclude  persons  living  in 
apartment-  and  tenement-houses  and  in  private  residences,  and 
have  left  as  a  basis  of  calculation  only  those  living  in  lodging-houses. 
We  can  then  estimate  the  relative  number  of  the  lodgers  engaged  in 
the  various  occupations  and  branches  of  employment,  compare 
these  proportions  with  the  proportions  shown  for  the  city  as  a  whole, 
note  any  tendency  of  lodgers  of  the  same  occupation  to  congregate 
in  the  same  locality,  show  the  variety  of  occupations  represented 
in  typical  lodging-house  streets  and  in  typical  individual  houses, 
and  finally  analyze  the  effects  of  lodging-house  life  upon  the  labor 
efficiency  of  the  men  and  women  subject  to  its  influences. 

It  must  be  understood,  however,  that  the  data  furnished  by  these 
lists  apply  only  to  adult  males.  For  male  lodgers  under  twenty  years 
of  age  we  have  no  statistical  data.  But  first-hand  acquaintance  with 
the  lodging-class  shows  that  the  number  of  male  minor  lodgers  is 
small.  Nor  have  we  any  statistical  information  for  that  half  of  the 
lodging-house  population  which  consists  of  women.  This  is  greatly 
to  be  regretted. 

Attention  in  this  chapter  should  be  directed  not  so  much  to  the 
absolute  numbers  given  as  to  the  percentages  derived  from  them.  In 
a  calculation  of  this  kind  we  obviously  cannot  hope  to  include  all 
the  lodgers  living  within  the  district  covered.  Only  such  houses 


THE  LODGER:    OCCUPATION  87 

have  been  included  as  were,  according  to  all  evidences,  almost 
certainly  to  be  classed  as  lodging-houses.  Tenement-houses,  apart- 
ments, private  residences,  and  in  some  cases  whole  streets,  have 
been  excluded,  and  with  them  undoubtedly  many  persons  who  in  a 
regular  census  would  be  classed  as  lodgers.  Most  fairly  viewed  the 
statistical  method  we  have  been  compelled  to  use  is  that  of  sampling.1 
While  perhaps  the  absolute  numbers  do  not  mean  much,  we  are 
confident  that  the  percentages  would  not  differ  materially  in  a 
complete  enumeration. 

The  total  number  of  male  lodgers  included  in  our  calculations 
in  this  chapter  is  7631.  Their  distribution  among  the  four  great 
branches  of  employment  is  shown  in  the  following  table,  which  is 
based  on  data  for  the  thirteen  precincts  constituting  the  South  End 
lodging-house  district.2 

TABLE  28.     BRANCHES  OF  OCCUPATION,  ADULT  MALE  LODGERS 

Branch  of  Employment  Number  Per  cent,  of  total 

Professional  service  951                        13.5 

Domestic  and  personal  service  1303                         17. 

Trade  and  transportation  349°                        45-5 

Manufacturing  and  mechanical  pursuits  1887                        25 

Total  7631                      loo. 

The  striking  fact  in  this  table  is  the  very  large  percentage  engaged 
in  trade  and  transportation.  Most  of  these  men,  as  we  shall  see, 
are  clerks,  salesmen,  and  small  dealers.  Together  with  the  skilled 
workmen,  who  make  up  the  mass  of  those  engaged  in  manufactur- 
ing and  mechanical  pursuits,  they  lend  the  lodging-house  population 
its  characteristic  tone.  The  percentage  of  domestic  and  personal 
servants  is  swelled  by  the  great  number  of  negro  waiters  living  about 
the  Back  Bay  Station. 

Turning  to  the  census  of  employments  for  all  Boston  in  1900, 
we  find  that  there  were  180,052  males  ten  years  old  and  over  engaged 
in  the  four  great  branches  of  occupation  above  tabulated,  dis- 
tributed as  follows: 

1  Cf .  Bowley,  Elements  of  Statistics,  p.  308. 

2  Agriculture  of  course  is  not  included.    Certain  miscellaneous  employments, 
represented  by  only  a  few  men  each,  which  could  not  well  be  classified  under  any 
of  the  four  heads,  are  excluded. 


88          THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

TABLE  29.    OCCUPATION  OF  MALES,  TEN  YEARS  OF  AGE  AND  OVER, 

BOSTON,  1900  1 

Branch  of  Employment  Number  Per  cent,  of  total 

Professional  service  10,866                         6.5 

Domestic  and  personal  service  37>749                       20.5 

Trade  and  transportation  79*667                       38.5 

Manufacturing  and  mechanical  pursuits  61,770                      34.5 

Evidently  this  is  a  somewhat  more  even  distribution  than  that  of 
the  lodgers. 

A  comparison  of  Table  29  with  Table  28  will  show  whether 
the  lodging-house  draws  its  clientele  proportionally  more  heavily 
from  one  branch  of  occupation  than  from  another.2 

TABLE  30.    OCCUPATION  OF  MALE  ADULT  LODGERS,  AND  OF  MALES 

IN  ALL  BOSTON 

Males  ten 

Male  lodgers     years  old  Per  cent. 

20  years  old,     and  over,  excess  (+)  for 
Branch  of  Employment                       and  over        all  Boston  lodgers 

Professional  service  13 .5%  6.5%  6.0%  (  +  ) 

Domestic  and  personal  service  17.0  20.5  3.5      (-) 

Trade  and  transportation  45.5  38.5  7.0      (  +  ) 

Manufacturing  and  mechanical  pursuits  25.0  34.5  9.5      (-) 

It  is  evident  that  proportionally  a  larger  number  of  professional 
men  and  of  men  following  commercial  pursuits  (trade  and  trans- 
portation) than  of  skilled  workmen  or  of  domestic  and  personal 
servants,  live  in  lodgings.  The  most  striking  difference  appears 
in  the  professional  service  class.  Here  the  proportion  in  lodging- 
houses  is  almost  twice  that  in  the  professional  class  at  large,  and  in 
this  case  no  part  of  the  difference  can  be  due  to  the  difference  in 
age  limitations  in  the  two  sets  of  percentages,  since  there  are  prac- 
tically no  professional  men  who  are  under  twenty  years  of  age. 
That  950  out  of  some  7600  lodgers  should  be  engaged  in  professional 
callings  is  a  noteworthy  fact.  The  presence  in  lodging-houses  of  so 

1  Compiled  from  the  Twelfth  U.  S.  Census,  Population,  part  ii,  Table  94. 

2  It  is  well  to  point  out,  however,  that  Table  29  includes  males  between  the  ages 
of  ten  and  twenty,  who  were  not  included  in  the  table  for  lodgers.    While  this  fact 
theoretically  renders  the  two  tables  incomparable,  it  seems  probable,  as  already 
stated,  that  the  number  of  male  lodgers  under  twenty  years  of  age  is  in  fact  too  small 
to  alter  the  results  materially. 


THE  LODGER:    OCCUPATION  89 

many  men  of  this  class  is  to  be  explained  by  two  causes.  First, 
professional  men  are  under  great  expense  for  their  education  and 
technical  training,  and  are  slower  in  gaining  a  footing  than  men  in 
other  employments.  They  cannot  marry  and  establish  homes  of 
their  own  so  soon,  and  in  consequence  the  lodging-house  naturally 
becomes  their  abiding-place  for  a  time.  Secondly,  a  considerable 
number  of  physicians,  dentists,  and  the  like,  men  whose  employ- 
ments are  to  a  great  extent  necessarily  localized,  are  doubtless  drawn 
to  the  lodging-house  district  to  be  near  their  patrons  and  clients, 
actual  or  hoped-for.  A  large  number  of  engineers  and  electricians 
also  add  to  the  ranks  of  professional  men  in  lodgings.1 

The  larger  relative  number  of  clerks,  salesmen,  etc.,  in  lodging- 
houses  than  in  the  city  as  a  whole  is  to  be  expected.  The  average 
shop-girl  lives  at  home  with  her  parents  or  relatives,  in  the  city  or 
the  suburbs;  but  the  ordinary  clerk  or  salesman,  earning  often  not 
so  much  as  the  average  skilled  mechanic,  yet  feeling  himself  on  a 
higher  social  plane  than  the  latter,  is  for  a  long  time  unwilling  to 
marry  and  assume  the  responsibility  of  home  and  family,  and  con- 
sequently remains  indefinitely  in  his  lodging-house. 

Turning  to  the  skilled  workman  we  find  an  excess  percentage  not 
on  the  side  of  the  lodgers,  but  on  that  of  the  population  as  a  whole. 
Here  again  the  use  of  the  same  age  limit  in  both  tables  might 
increase  slightly  the  number  in  lodgings,  but  on  the  whole  it  seems 
that  the  skilled  mechanic  does  not  take  to  the  lodging-house  as  a 
semi-permanent  abode  with  quite  the  same  freedom  as  does  the 
mercantile  employee.  Two  reasons  are  to  be  assigned  for  this  also. 
First,  the  workman  does  not  like  to  live  too  far  from  his  work, 
and  there  is  but  one  factory  district  within  easy  walking  distance 
from  the  lodging-house  district  of  the  South  End.2  Secondly,  it  is 
probable  that  skilled  workmen  marry  earlier  than  mercantile 
employees. 

Of  men  engaged  in  domestic  and  personal  service  we  find  also 
a  larger  proportion  in  the  population  at  large  than  in  the  lodging- 

1  By  the  United  States  Census,  engineers  and  electricians  are  classified  as  profes- 
sional men.    It  would  seem  that  electricians  would  be  more  properly  classified  as 
skilled  mechanics. 

2  Cf.  R.  F.  Phelps,  South  End  Factory  Employees  and  Their  Homes,  Boston,  1903. 
(Published  by  the  South  End  House  Association.) 


90          THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

houses,  but  the  difference  is  not  great.  That  it  is  not  greater  is  due 
largely  to  the  large  number  of  negroes  in  the  lodging-house  district 
immediately  contiguous  to  the  Back  Bay  Station.  That  it  is  so  large, 
on  the  other  hand,  is  perhaps  due  to  the  fact  that  the  percentage 
for  the  whole  city  includes  a  great  number  of  day  laborers,  who 
are  classed  by  the  census  as  domestic  and  personal  servants,  and 
few  of  whom  are  to  be  found  in  lodging-houses. 

We  have  now  to  consider  whether  any  tendency  is  evident  for 
lodgers  of  the  same  general  occupation  to  congregate  in  the  same 
locality.  Occupation  is  one  of  the  strongest  bases  of  sociability. 
It  strengthens  sympathy  and  the  "consciousness  of  kind"  between 
individuals  by  giving  them  a  strong  community  of  interest.  This, 
together  with  variations  in  incomes  and  standards  of  living  in 
different  employments,  should  lead  us  to  expect  some  tendency 
toward  a  geographical  grouping  by  occupation. 

The  distribution  of  male  adult  lodgers  is  shown  graphically  in 
Charts  vui,  ix,  x,  and  xi.  The  geographical  divisions  are  precincts. 
Table  31  gives  the  data  from  which  these  charts  were  constructed: 

TABLE  3I.1    GEOGRAPHICAL  DISTRIBUTION,  BY  OCCUPATION,  AND 

BY   WARDS    AND    PRECINCTS,    OF   MALE   ADULT   LODGERS,    SOUTH 
END  LODGING-HOUSE  DISTRICT,    1903 

Ward  9  Ward  10  Ward  « 


Precinct:  5          634561234567       Total  per 

cent. 

Branch  of  occupa- 
tion 

Prof.  serv.    .     .     .     10.8      9.0     6.8      6.5     6.3     8.1    12.0   13.3    5.7    10.4    4.4     4.6     2.1  too 

Bom.  and  pers.     .     10.7      5.7      8.8    12.5    15.5   15.2     4.7     3.9    3.7      6.8    4.9     4.5     3.1  100 

Tr.  and  trans.  .     .     10.0      9.0      7.9      5.5     4.6     8.9     9.9    n.6    4.7    10.7     7.6     6.4     3.2  too 

Mfg.  and  mch.  213    122      7.5      6.3     3.2     5.7     52     5.5    5.5      9.9    6.4     6.4     4.9  100 

Percentage  of  total 
number  of  lodgers 
(7631).  13.0  9.2  78  7.0  63  9.0  8.0  9.0  4.8  9.8  6.6  6.0  3.5  100 

The  significant  facts  brought  out  by  this  table  are  the  concentra- 
tion of  professional  men  in  Precincts  i,  2,  and  4  of  Ward  12,  and 
in  Precinct  5  of  Ward  9;  the  very  pronounced  concentration  of 
domestic  and  personal  servants  in  Precincts  4,  5,  and  6  of  Ward  10, 
together  with  a  secondary  grouping  in  Precinct  5  of  Ward  9;  the 
grouping  of  persons  engaged  in  trade  and  transportation  in  Pre- 
cincts i,  2,  and  4  of  Ward  12;  and  finally,  the  heavy  concentration 
of  skilled  mechanics  in  Precincts  5  and  6  of  Ward  9. 

1  Summarized  from  Tables  32,  33,  34,  and  35. 


THE  LODGER:    OCCUPATION  91 

Let  us  look  for  a  moment  at  each  branch  of  occupation  separately. 

1.  Professional  Service.    Table  31  and  Chart  vm  show  that  the 
professional  men  are  strongly  centralized  in  a  district  in  Ward  12 
bounded  roughly  by  Massachusetts  Avenue,  Tremont  Street,  West 
Canton  Street,  and  the  Hartford  railroad  tracks.    This  area  is  the 
best  part  of  the  South  End  lodging-house  district.    The  general 
absence  of  professional  men  from  Precincts  3,  4,  and  5  of  Ward  10  is 
explained  by  the  large  number  of  domestic  and  personal  servants 
that  appear  in  these  precincts,  as  is  clear  from  Chart  ix. 

2.  Domestic  and  Personal  Service.     Nearly  two  thirds  of  the 
lodgers  classified  as  domestic  and  personal  servants  (about  1300) 
reside,  as  shown  by  Table  31  and  Chart  ix,  in  the  four  precincts  of 
Ward  10,  and  in  Precinct  5  of  Ward  9,  —  in  other  words  in  a  belt  of 
territory  extending  across  the  South  End  from  the  Back  Bay  Station 
and  the  Hartford  Railroad  to  Tremont  Street  and  the  lower  part 
of  Shawmut  Avenue.    A  large  number  of  negro  waiters,  cooks  and 
stewards,  barbers,  janitors,  and  porters  find  rooms  in  the  western 
part  of  this  belt,  and  constitute  the  bulk  of  this  class  to  be  found 
in  lodgings.    The  intersection  of  Dartmouth  Street  and  Columbus 
Avenue  marks  about  the  centre  of  this  negro  colony.    Their  choice 
of  this  locality  is  probably  due,  in  part  at  least,  to  its  proximity  to 
the  apartment-house,  hotel,  and  private  residence  districts  of  the 
Back  Bay  just  across  the  railroad  and  beyond  Copley  Square. 

3.  Manufacturing  and  Mechanical  Pursuits.     As  is  shown  in 
Chart  x,  the  skilled  workmen  are  concentrated  heavily  in  the 
down-town  end  of  the  district.    There  is  but  one  centre  of  density 
for  this  class  —  the  two  precincts,  5  and  6,  of  Ward  9,  where 
exactly  one  third  of  the  skilled  mechanics  are  lodged.     The  chief 
reasons  why  they  are  centralized  here  (between  Dover  and  West 
Dedham  streets,  and  Tremont  and  Washington  streets)  are:  first, 
the  proximity  of  the  South  End  factory  district,  secondly  the  near- 
ness of  the  down-town  business  district,  which  is  within  easy  walking 
distance,  and  thirdly  perhaps  the  fact  that  the  locality  is  somewhat 
less  "genteel"  than  the  districts  farther  out  in  Ward  12.    Those 
portions  of  the  latter  ward  which  show  a  strong  centralization  of 
the  professional  and  business  classes  show  very  small  percentages 
for  mechanical  pursuits,  a  bit  of  evidence  that  the  two  classes  do  not 
much  tend  toward  social  amalgamation.    Precinct  5  of  Ward  9 


92          THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

shows  a  large  percentage  both  of  skilled  mechanics  and  of  profes- 
sional men,  but  electricians  and  engineers  here  make  up  a  large 
proportion  of  the  professional  class. 

4.  Trade  and  Transportation.  Turning  to  Chart  xi,  we  find 
in  this  same  district  of  Ward  12  a  large  percentage  of  mercantile 
employees.  The  strongest  grouping  of  this  class  is,  however,  in 
the  outer  precincts  of  Ward  12,  coinciding  roughly  with  that  of  the 
professional  men. 

While,  then,  to  summarize  the  conclusions  to  be  reached  from 
this  survey,  we  may  say  that  no  especially  surprising  concentrations 
are  noted,  nevertheless  the  district  is  differentiated  into  well-defined 
localities  each  of  which  is  characterized  by  its  own  occupational 
class.  Acquaintance  with  the  district  fully  corroborates  the  evidence 
of  this  analysis.  The  tendency  of  the  professional  and  commercial 
classes  to  congregate  in  Ward  12,  of  the  clerks  to  settle  thickly 
in  the  lodging-house  part  of  Ward  9,  and  of  the  domestic  and 
personal  servants  to  concentrate  in  certain  precincts  of  Ward  10, 
lends  a  tone  of  its  own  to  each  district,  and  is  in  part  also  a  result 
of  that  distinctive  tone.1 

The  details  upon  which  the  foregoing  analysis  is  made  are  given 
in  Tables  34,  35,  36,  and  37,  which  show  the  actual  number  con- 
sidered in  each  occupation.  Points  of  minor  interest  are  the  central- 
ization of  physicians  in  Precincts  i,  2,  4,  and  5  of  Ward  12  (Table 
34),  and  the  great  number  of  clerks  and  salesmen  that  appear  in 
Table  35.  (See  Appendix  to  this  chapter.) 

The  importance  of  individual  occupations  is  shown  in  the  follow- 
ing table,  for  all  in  which  more  than  one  hundred  persons  were 
found : 

TABLE  32.  OCCUPATIONS  OF  MALE  LODGERS,  IN  ORDER  OF  NUMBER 

EMPLOYED 

Clerks  1002  Foremen,  managers,  etc.  203 

Salesmen  610  Engineers  177 

Merchants  and  dealers  411  Real  est.  and  insurance  agents  157 

Waiters  361  Cooks  and  stewards  152 

1  "  The  distribution  of  any  element  of  the  population  over  the  city  is  significant 
both  as  indicating  the  character  of  the  element  and  as  accounting  in  some  measure 
for  its  character." — Lillian  Brandt,  The  Negroes  oj  St.  Louis,  in  the  Publications 
of  the  American  Statistical  Association,  March,  1903,  p.  219. 


ff)  <i 


THE  LODGER:  OCCUPATION  93 

Bookkeepers  303  Electricians  130 

Machinists  269  Tailors  124 

Carpenters  260  Physicians  123 

Railroad  employees  256  Laborers  119 

Painters  and  paper-hangers  242  Piano-  and  cabinet-makers  117 

Printers  220  Agents  (not  specified)  115 

Teamsters  212  Plumbers,  gas- and  steam-fitters     105 


Various  scattering  trades  and  occupations  are  represented  by 
only  a  few  persons  each.  The  wide  range  of  occupation  of  lodgers 
is  apparent,  however,  when  we  find  representatives  not  only  of  the 
callings  included  in  the  tables,  but  the  following  as  well:  photo- 
grapher, sailor,  pilot,  sail-maker,  sea  captain,  justice  of  the  peace, 
laundryman,  boat-builder,  window-dresser,  purse-maker,  horse- 
trainer,  meter-reader,  property-man,  scene-shifter,  embalmer,  fur- 
rier, rubber-worker,  speculator,  poet,  coffee-roaster,  carpet-layer, 
brush-maker,  nailer,  time-keeper,  cooper,  paver,  gas-prover,  proof- 
reader, paper-ruler,  and  chauffeur. 

The  heterogeneity  of  lodgers,  vocationally,  is  well  illustrated, 
also,  by  the  variety  of  occupations  found  in  any  one  street  or  block 
of  houses,  or  in  individual  houses  taken  at  random.  This  may  be 
noted  by  referring  back  to  the  instances  given  of  the  change  of 
address  of  lodgers.  (Page  84.)  Two  other  examples  may  be  given 
here,  including  women  as  well  as  men  lodgers:  In  a  house  on 

Street  there  were  at  one  time  a  bookkeeper,  an  elderly  lady 

with  no  occupation,  a  single  woman  of  some  means,  a  student  in 
Technology,  an  expert  stenographer,  a  young  man  of  independent 
income,  a  law  student,  a  clerk  in  a  newspaper  office,  a  nurse,  a 
fortune-teller,  and  a  commercial  traveler.  In  another  house,  not  far 
from  Copley  Square  there  were  at  once  a  bookkeeper  (woman), 
two  clerks  (men),  a  draughtswoman,  an  architect,  an  accountant 
for  a  piano  concern,  a  harness-maker,  two  women  from  California, 
a  broker  and  his  wife,  a  professor  in  one  of  the  leading  educational 
institutions  of  the  city,  a  policeman,  and  the  landlady's  son  and 
his  wife. 

Barring  the  fact  that  fewer  occupations  are  open  to  women,  we 
should  find,  had  we  the  requisite  data,  the  same  heterogeneity  of 
occupation  among  women  lodgers  as  among  men.  In  the  absence 
of  even  such  imperfect  data  as  are  afforded  us  for  men  by  the  pre- 


94          THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

cinct  voting-lists,  we  must  fall  back  upon  personal  observation.  In 
the  case  of  two  hundred  women  lodgers  taken  at  random  from 
all  parts  of  the  district,  we  have  the  following  vocational  distribu- 
tion: 

TABLE  33.    DISTRIBUTION  OF  (200)  WOMEN  LODGERS  BY 
OCCUPATION 

Wives,  no  employment  33    Bookkeepers  8 

Single  women,  no  employment.         16    Milliners  8 

Stenographers  16    Students  5 

Waitresses  16    Tailoresses  4 

Dressmakers  15     Sewing-girls  4 

Saleswomen  12    Teachers  4 

Nurses  12    Cooks  2 

Clerks  10    Art  students  2 

and  one  each  of  the  following :  book -agent,  real-estate  agent,  agent,  cashier, 
cashier  in  hardware-store,  cashier  in  millinery-store,  cashier  in  restaurant,  clerk 
in  photographer's  studio,  draughtswoman,  designer  of  monuments,  property- 
woman  in  theatre,  telegraph-operator,  masseuse,  manicurist,  teacher  on  sewing- 
machine,  teacher  of  millinery,  stitcher,  dress-fitter,  passe-partout  worker, 
straw -plaiter,  straw-shop  worker,  "in  city  for  her  health,"  "taking  piano- 
lessons,"  "missionary  from  Colorado,"  unknown,  4;  total,  200. 

The  number  of  married  women  not  working  is  noteworthy.  The 
husbands  of  such  are  men  who  have  reached  the  more  lucrative 
stages  of  employment  than  has  the  average  lodger.  In  many  cases 
both  husband  and  wife  work,  and  then  some  curious  combinations 
are  found:  husband  a  draughtsman,  wife  a  clerk;  husband  a  real- 
estate  agent,  wife  a  milliner;  here  a  machinist  and  a  dress- trimmer 
have  joined  forces ;  and  there  a  barber  and  a  stenographer. 

The  single  women  without  employment  are  chiefly  old  ladies, 
most  of  them  living  on  modest  incomes,  or  supported  by  some 
relative  or  by  charity.  No  comment  is  needed  upon  the  large  number 
of  stenographers,  dressmakers,  nurses,  bookkeepers,  and  milliners. 
The  large  number  of  waitresses  is  in  part  due  to  the  demand  from 
the  local  cafe's.  The  saleswomen  and  clerks,  if  this  table  represents 
their  true  proportion  in  the  lodging-house  population,  must  be 
employed  for  the  most  part  in  small  stores  and  offices,  since  a  com- 
paratively small  number  of  girls  employed  in  the  big  department 
stores  live  in  lodging-houses.  Some  investigation  was  made  of  this 
point.  In  one  store,  employing  176  sales-girls,  only  seven  lived  in 


THE  LODGER:    OCCUPATION 


95 


lodging-houses,  19  boarded  or  lived  with  friends  or  relatives,  and 
the  other  150  lived  at  home.  Out  of  782  clerks  and  sales-girls  in 
another  large  department  store,  only  83  lived  in  the  South  End 
lodging-house  district,  and  probably  not  all  of  these  in  lodging- 
houses.  The  low  wages  paid  this  class  of  employees  does  not  permit 
of  their  living  in  lodgings.  Some  large  department  stores  make  a 
special  point  of  employing  only  girls  who  live  at  home,  whom  they 
can  secure  at  low  wages. 


APPENDIX  TO  CHAPTER  XI 
TABLE  34.    GEOGRAPHICAL  DISTRIBUTION,  PROFESSIONAL  SERVICE 

Ward  g.  Ward  10.  Ward  12 


. 

Precinct  :                  5 

6 

3 

4        5 

6        i 

2 

3 

4        5 

6 

7 

Per 

Totals* 

Occupation 

cent. 

4 

3 

2           I 

2           1 

4 

_ 

_       _ 

4 

2 

3° 

3.2 

3 

3 

6       3 

10      15 

13 

7 

7        3 

i 

4 

86 

9.0 

4 

3 

-        12 

6       a 

6 

4 

3        i 

2 

48 

5-0 

Architects  and  draughts- 

5 

3 

5        3 

4       8 

8 

2 

8        3 

2 

• 

58 

6.1 

Physicians    9 

12 
4 

2 

4 

s     i 

3       3 

6     24 
3        3 

18 
5 

5 
4 

i?      13 

7        i 

4 

I 

123 
41 

>*.9 
4.3 

Clergymen    .         .     . 

2 

i 

2           I 

5        i 

2 

i 

2           3 

- 

I 

21 

2.2 

Teachers 

9 

3 

7       6 

3      ii 

9 

2 

4        2 

2 

2 

60 

6.3 

Lawyers    .                                3 

7 

4 

2           I 

12        9 

M 

I 

II            2 

9 

- 

75 

8.0 

Journalists                               i 
Literary  and  scientific 

10 

2 

4 

i        3 
5       » 

3        3 
3        9 

3 

2 

9 
3 

3        i 
6        i 

i 
i 

I 

42 
35 

4-4 
3-7 
18.6 

Electricians  .                       22 

5 

12 

12       9 

9        7 

19 

4 

18        I 

7 

4 

5 

177 
130 

13-7 

Miscellaneous                        7 

2 

2 

-           2 

I          2 

4 

i 

2          I 

i 

— 

25 

2.6 

Totals    .                    103 

85 

64 

62        60 

77    "4 

127 

54 

99      42 

44 

20 

95i 

1  00.0 

Per  cent. 


.  10.8  9.0    6.8  6.5       63  8.1    12.0  13.3    5.7  10.4    4.4    4.6    2.1     100.0 


TABLE  35.     GEOGRAPHICAL  DISTRIBUTION,  DOMESTIC  AND 
PERSONAL  SERVICE 

Ward  9.  Ward  10.  Ward  12. 


Precinct  : 

,  

5 

6 

3 

4 

5 

6 

Occupation 

Waiters              .... 

32 

16 

38 

50 

81 

75 

Cooks  and  stewards 

3* 

'4 

'7 

16 

ii 

'4 

Restaurant  keepers   .     . 

5 

6 

5 

5 

6 

i* 

| 

IO 

4 

2 

7 

Policemen,     watchmen, 

•  j 

etc  

g 

6 

5 

9 

2 

5 

Barbers    

IO 

a 

8 

12 

IO 

16 

4 

a 

3 

2 

I 

a 

Janitors    
Laborers  

3 
20 

IO 

II 

7 

3 

IO 

6 

IO 

15 

22 
13 

Miscellaneous  .... 

16 

— 

19 

49 

65 

38 

Totals      .... 

139 

74 

116 

163 

202 

I98 

I 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

7 

Totals. 

Per 
cent. 

.8 

5 

22 

8 

16 

5 

5 

361 

27.7 

a 

3 

5 

14 

7 

8 

3 

•S3 

1  1.6 

6 

6 

5 

4 

4 

a 

54 

4-i 

- 

4 

2 

10 

8 

9 

a 

79 

6.0 

6 

4 

2 

ii 

Q 

6 

5 

79 

6.0 

i 

S 

- 

9 

3 

4 

So 

6.1 

16 

6 

_ 

12 

3 

3 

— 

54 

4-1 

4 

2 

- 

7 

i 

6 

6 

88 

6.8 

ll 

3 

5 

9 

5 

8 

10 

119 

8-4 

a 

'3 

ii 

4 

9 

4 

7 

»37 

18.2 

62 

5i 

47 

89 

65 

57 

40 

1303 

100.0 

Percent.      .     .    .   10.7  5.7    8.8   12.5  15.5152    4.7    39    37    6.8    4.9    45    3-*      "»•« 


96          THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

TABLE  36.    GEOGRAPHICAL  DISTRIBUTION,  TRADE  AND 
TRANSPORTATION 


Ward  9. 

Ward 

10 

Ward 

12. 

Precinct  : 

5 

6 

3 

4 

5 

6 

i 

2 

3 

4 

5       6 

7 

Per 

Occupation 

Totals. 

cent. 

Salesmen      .          ... 

48 

67 

53 

38 

33 

62 

75 

67 

27 

54 

43      25 

18 

610 

'7-5 

Clerks  

123 

I  O2 

88 

60 

42 

97 

93 

*  *3 

ce 

85 

52      6  1 

3  l 

1  002 

28.8 

Bookkeepers     .... 

33 

25 

28 

ii 

18 

32 

27 

34 

jj 

'   14 

37 

i/   17 

IO 

303 

8.7 

Commercial  travelers 

7 

4 

5 

2 

6 

8 

5 

15 

4 

8 

8        4 

a 

78 

2.2 

Railroad  employees   .     . 

27 

27 

19 

19 

15 

15 

18 

16 

3 

23 

39      28 

7 

256 

7-4 

Real    estate    and  insur. 

agents   .... 

9 

17 

14 

8 

i 

9 

17 

'9 

12 

3i 

10        7 

3 

i57 

4-5 

Agents  (not  specified)     . 
Merchants  and  dealers 

13 

18 

14 
3° 

9 
14 

8 
23 

10 
22 

9 
37 

ii 
38 

16 
65 

I 
'9 

ii 

57 

6        7 
40     35 

13 

"5 
411 

3-3 
11.7 

Foremen,  managers,  etc. 

ii 

10 

'9 

ii 

9 

IS 

24 

27 

12 

26 

21        10 

i 

203 

5-8 

Bankers  and  brokers 

i 

5 

9 

2 

2 

3 

6 

!4 

2 

6 

6        i 

i 

58 

17 

Contractors  and  builders 

2 

3 

i 

- 

- 

2 

9 

6 

2 

S 

i        i 

a 

34 

I.O 

Manufacturers  .... 

- 

2 

I 

- 

4 

5 

2 

- 

2 

3 

i 

20 

.6 

Publishers    

- 

- 

I 

- 

- 

i 

2 

I 

- 

I            2 

i 

9 

.2 

Teamsters    .... 

56 

IO 

13 

II 

4 

13 

5 

II 

10 

29 

16      19 

15 

212 

6.1 

Miscellaneous    .... 

- 

- 

7 

8 

3 

3        i 

22 

.6 

Totals    .... 

348 

3'4 

275 

194 

162 

306 

34' 

4'5 

165 

374 

263      221 

112 

349° 

1  00.0 

Per  cent. 


10.0    9.0    7.9    5.5    4.6    8.9    9.9  1 1. 6    4.7  10.7    7.6    6.4     3.2    100.0 


TABLE  37.     GEOGRAPHICAL  DISTRIBUTION:    MANUFACTURES  AND 
MECHANICAL  PURSUITS 


Precinct  : 
Occupation 
Carpenters    -              .     • 

Ward  9. 
5    ~~6 

64      34 

14      15 

59      34 

22        17 

6        5 

Ward  10 

Ward 

12. 

Totals. 

260 
92 

242 

'36 

Per 
cent. 

«3-7 

49 

12.8 

5-5 

24 
7 

23 

8 

4 

16 
4 

18 
7 

2 

3 

8 

3 

2 

6 

13 
3 

'3 
6 

2 

i 

12 

I 

16 

4 

2 

9 
8 

7 

4 
2 

12 

4 
12 

8 
3 

4 

28 
8 

21 

6 

5 
'7 

IO 

18 

8 

2 

6 
17 

12 
II 

4 

2 

7 
6 

T 
3 

2 

Painters  and  paper-hang- 

Plumbers,  and  gas  and 
steam-fitters   .... 
Other  building  trades     . 
Total  for  building  trades 

Machinists   . 
Other    iron     and    steel- 
workers     
Other  metal-workers 
Total  for  metal  trades  . 

Printing   trades  (chiefly 
printers)    ... 
Textile     trades    (chiefly 

lt>5 

105 

62 

47 

'3 

37 

JO 

30 

37 

76 

55 

46 

24 

735 

38.8 

69 

'9 
14 

4' 

7 

IO 

18 

4 

4 

19 

4 
3 

7 

2 

3 

15 

3 

i 

IO 

9 

IO 

4 

14 

4 

2 

6 

4 

9 
8 

M 

10 

2 

4 
6 

2 

269 

82 
58 

143 
4-S 

J.O 

7O2 

J8 

26 

26 

72 

i<) 

20 

'7 

2O 

49 

22 

20 

12 

409 

27.5 

39 
i? 

22 

I? 
II 
14 
12 

i? 

8 

IO 

9 

10 

8 

17 
9 

4 

8 
6 
6 

18 
7 

4 
i 

6 
5 

4 

IO 
7 

5 
3 

13 
'3 

5 

5 

2 

4 
8 

13 
12 

7 

i 

4 
4 

26 
9 

3 
3 

4 
i 

9 

20 

5 

4 
2 

I 
4 

7 

7 

8 
5 

5 
7 
5 

IO 

14 

8 

'3 

4 

5 

i 
4 

18 
14 
5 

7 
6 

2 

S 

7 
S 
•S 

4 
3 

6 

220 
124 
"7 

22 

64 
63 

47 
86 

n.6 
6.5 

6-3 
i.i 

3-4 
3-4 
2-5 
4.6 

Piano  and  cabinet-mak- 

Other  wood-workers  .    . 
Shoe-makers  and  leather- 
workers     . 
Butchers  and  bakers 
Cigar-makers    .... 
Miscellaneous  .... 
Totals     .... 

Per  cent.     .    . 

402 

ai-3 

228 

12.2 

142 

7-5 

118 
6-3 

58 
32 

106 

5-7 

97 
52 

102 

5-5 

102 

5-5 

•85 
9'9 

129 
6.4 

129 

6.4 

4-9 

1887 

1  00.0 

1  00.0 

CHAPTER   XII 


THE  LODGER:   ECONOMIC  CONDITION 

EMPLOYMENT  is  the  key  to  income,  which  is  the  measure  of  possible 
expenditure.  An  individual's  economic  condition  is  measured  by 
the  size  of  his  income  and  by  the  expenses  which  he  must  regularly 
meet  out  of  it.  Knowing  a  lodger's  occupation,  we  can  estimate 
his  income  and  compare  with  it  certain  fixed  weekly  charges  he 
must  meet. 

Not  all  lodgers  are  wage-earners.  There  are  many  wives  sup- 
ported by  husbands,  some  husbands  supported  by  wives;  there 
are  many  students,  and  many  old  people,  some  living  on  the  income 
from  past  savings,  some  on  the  bounty  of  relatives,  some  on  charity. 
But  the  vast  majority  of  lodgers,  both  men  and  women,  are  paid 
workers. 

Until  recently  we  have  had  no  reliable  statistics  of  the  wages  of 
mercantile  employees  in  Boston,  but  Part  in  of  the  Annual  Report 
of  the  Massachusetts  Bureau  of  Statistics  of  Labor  for  1902  consists 
of  a  collection  of  mercantile  wages  and  salaries.  The  Report  covers 
455  establishments  in  the  heart  of  the  business  district,  and  9454 
employees.  Tables  38  and  39  are  based  on  it.  Table  40  is  from 
trade-union  sources. 

TABLE  38.     LOWEST,  HIGHEST,  AND  AVERAGE  WEEKLY  INCOME, 
SELECTED  MERCANTILE  EMPLOYMENTS,  BOSTON,  1902 


Lowest 


Highest 


Average 


Men      Women        Men        Women    Men     Women 


Buyers 

Bookkeepers 

Bookkeepers'  assistants 

Clerks 

Cashiers 

Stenographers 

Commercial  travelers 

Salesmen 


$15-16 

$15-16 

$125 

$81 

$3566 

$26.07 

6-  7 

5-6 

57-58 

25-26 

19-73 

1  1.  06 

— 

— 

— 

— 

II.OXJ 

9.89 

4-  5 

3-  4 

28-29 

2O-2I 

11.22 

I2.5O 

5-6 

3~  4 

23-24 

18-19 

13.20 

7.89 

8-  9 

4-  5 

16-17 

2O-2I 

12.03 

10.86 

xo-ri 

— 

IOO 

— 

28.22 

— 

3-4         3-4 


60       24-25       14.99         8.04 


THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 


Lowest                       Highest                 Average 
Men      Women         Men       Women       Men      Women 

$9-10       $4-5      $34-35 
4-  5 

$11-12      $16.49 
10.67 

$6.71 

1  1  -1  2            —           23-24 
6-7            —           30-31 

15-57 
13-93 

— 

2-  3        2-3       18-19 
5-6        —        14-15 

IO-33 
9-10        9.10 

9-°5 

4.83 

TABLE  39.  LOWEST,  HIGHEST,  AND  AVERAGE  WEEKLY  INCOME, 
SELECTED  EMPLOYMENTS  OF  THE  DOMESTIC  AND  PERSONAL 
SERVICE  CLASS,  BOSTON,  1902 


Cooks 

Cooks'  assistants 

Bartenders 

Watchmen 

Laborers 

Waiters 

Janitors 


TABLE  40.      WAGES  OF  MECHANICS,   SKILLED  AND  UNSKILLED, 
BOSTON,  1903-4,  UNDER  TRADE  UNION  SCHEDULES  1 


Steam-fitters 

Plumbers 

Gas-fitters 

Plasterers 

Brick -layers 

Masons 

Carpenters 

Elevator-constructors 

House-smiths 

Sheet-metal  workers 

Painters 

Decorators 

Structural-iron  workers 

Roofers 

Electricians 

Steam-fitters 

Pipe-coverers 

Marble-cutters 

Freestone-cutters 

Laborers 

Plasterers'  laborers 

Cement-workers 

Cement-workers'  helpers 

Art-glass  workers 

1  This  wage-list  was  kindly  furnished  the  writer  by  Mr.  Harry  B.  Taplin,  Amherst 
Fellow  at  the  South  End  House,  Boston,  1902-04,  who  has  made  a  special  study  of 
trade-unionism  in  Boston. 


Wages  per  week, 

Hours 

assuming  constant 

per  day 

Wages  per  day 

employment 

8 

$3.50-4  co 

$21.00-24.00 

8 

3.75-4.00 

22  50-24.00 

8 

3-50 

21.  OO 

8 

4.00 

24.00 

8 

4.40 

26.40 

8 

4.40 

26.40 

8 

3.00 

18.00 

8 

3.60. 

21.60 

8 

3.00-350 

18.00-21.  oo 

8 

2.75-3-50 

16.50-21.00 

8 

2.80-3.00 

16  80-18.00 

8 

3.20-4.00 

19.20-24.00 

8 

4.00 

24.00 

8 

3-oo 

18.00 

8 

3-2° 

19.20 

8 

3.50-4.00 

21.00-24.00 

8 

3-0° 

18.00 

8 

3.50-4.00 

21.00-24.00 

8 

4.00 

2400 

8  or  9 

2.40  or  2.70 

14.40-16.20 

8 

2.75-3.00 

16.50-18.00 

8 

3.00-3.50 

18.00-21.  oo 

8 

2.00-2.25 

12.00-15.00 

8 

3.00-3.50 

18.00-21.  oo 

THE  LODGER:    ECONOMIC  CONDITION  99 

Steam-fitters'  helpers  8  2.00-2.50  12.00-15.00 

Tile-layers  8  4.25  25-5° 

Tile-layers'  helpers  8  2.50  15.00 

Woodworkers  50  hours  per  wk.  2.80-4.00  16.80-24.00 

Hardwood  finishers  50  hours  per  wk.  2.80  up  16.80  up. 

Paper-hangers  (piece-work)  4.00  up  24.00  up. 

Cigar-makers  (piece-work)  20.00 

These  tables  are  sufficient  to  give  some  idea  of  the  weekly  income 
of  the  vocational  classes  that  constitute  the  greater  part  of  the 
lodging-house  population.  Certain  fixed  and  regular  expenses, 
namely,  room- rent,  board,  laundry,  and  in  many  cases  car-fare, 
must  be  met.  What  remains  of  weekly  income  may  go  for  clothing, 
etc.  As  the  greater  part  of  the  lodging-house  district  is  within  easy 
walking  distance  of  the  business  district  we  shall  exclude  car-fare 
from  this  discussion,  especially  as  we  can  scarcely  hope  to  arrive 
at  any  correct  estimate  of  it  for  the  mass  of  lodgers.  Laundry 
expenses  also  vary.  Fifty  cents  a  week  might  suffice  one  person, 
while  another  could  not  get  along  on  a  dollar.  Laundry  expense 
is  harder  on  women  and  girls  than  on  men.  Many  lodgers  do  a  part 
of  their  own  washing,  although  most  landladies  object  to  it. 

The  two  main  charges  are  of  course  board  and  room-rent.  The 
writer  made  an  attempt  in  the  early  part  of  his  labors  on  this  inves- 
tigation to  gather  some  statistics  at  first  hand  in  regard  to  these 
two  items,  but  it  was  productive  of  such  meagre  results  for  the  labor 
expended  that  it  was  not  persisted  in.  However,  such  results  as 
were  obtained,  together  with  general  information  as  to  lodging- 
house  rates,  render  it  certain  that  the  average  weekly  payment  for 
room-rent  is  not  far  from  two  dollars  per  person.  One  hundred  and 
five  persons  in  eight  houses  on  Union  Park,  for  example,  paid  an 
average  weekly  rent  of  $2.34,  while  eighty-one  persons  in  five  houses 
on  Upton  Street  near  by  paid  a  weekly  average  of  only  $1.90.  The 
individual  averages  for  the  eight  houses  on  Union  Park  ran  respec- 
tively as  follows:  $2.14,  $2.18,  $1.94,  $2.25,  $2.80,  $2.71,  $2.32, 
$2.40.  This  shows  considerable  variation  from  house  to  house. 
Nearly  as  much  is  shown  by  the  houses  on  Upton  Street:  $1.96, 
$1.65,  $1.80,  $2.00,  $2.10.  One  house  on  Dartmouth  Street  shows 
an  average  of  $3.16.  Where  the  averages  for  different  streets  and 
different  houses  so  close  together  vary  so  much,  a  general  average 


100        THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

for  the  whole  district,  even  had  we  the  data  for  its  calculation,  would 
obviously  give  little  information  concerning  the  actual  cost  of 
rooms  to  individuals.  Naturally  a  person  can,  within  limits,  suit 
the  price  of  his  room  to  his  purse.  The  great  demand,  as  shown 
by  room-registry  experience,  seems  to  be  for  $2.00  and  $3.00  rooms. 
The  average  prices  charged  for  rooms  have  already  been  given  in 
Tables  22  and  23,  Chapter  vm.  Side  rooms  for  less  than  $1.50 
are  rare,  the  usual  rate  being  from  $1.50  to  $2.00.  The  demand 
for  side  rooms  exceeds  the  supply.  Square  rooms  range  from  $2.00 
for  unheated  attic  rooms  to  $5.00  and  $6.00  for  the  best  front  rooms. 
A  square  room  is  usually  occupied  by  two  persons,  who  room 
together,  the  chances  are,  quite  as  much  to  reduce  expenses  as  to 
enjoy  each  other's  company.  Among  women  there  is  a  strong 
objection  to  rooming  with  any  one,  though  there  are  of  course 
those  who  either  prefer  it  or  do  not  object  to  it. 

Turning  to  rent  paid  by  lodgers  of  different  occupations,  we  find 
that  where  a  man  and  wife  occupy  a  room  they  pay  from  $3.50  to 
$6.00  a  week  and  that  the  kind  of  employment  has  little  to  do  with 
the  price  paid.  We  find  single  salesmen  paying  $2,  $3,  and  $4  a 
week;  saleswomen,  $i  to  $3;  clerks,  both  men  and  women,  $1.50 
to  $4;  dressmakers,  $1.75  to  $3;  trained  women  nurses,  $2  to  $4; 
stenographers,  $1.25  to  $3;  waiters  and  waitresses,  $1.00  to  $3. 
For  skilled  mechanics  the  almost  uniform  level  is  $2.00. 

Turning  to  Table  40,  we  see  that  the  weekly  earnings  of  the 
skilled  mechanic  do  not,  in  times  of  constant  employment,  fall 
below  $16  per  week.  It  is  said  that  the  ratio  of  rent  to  income 
varies  from  12  per  cent,  to  15  per  cent,  among  the  wealthy  to  twenty- 
five  or  thirty-five  per  cent,  among  tenement  dwellers.1  So  far  as 
rental  expenses  are  concerned  our  unmarried  skilled  mechanic 
lodger  is  evidently  not  to  be  classed  with  the  tenement  population. 
In  some  other  occupations,  however,  room-rent  assumes  at  times 
more  alarming  proportions.  Take,  for  example,  the  female  clerks, 
whose  highest  wages  do  not  range  over  $12  a  week.  Two  dollars 
a  week  is  i6§  per  cent,  of  this.  The  average  weekly  wages  of  wait- 
resses are  only  $4.83,  and  unlike  waiters,  they  get  scarcely  any  tips. 
From  $1.00  to  $3.00  for  room-rent  does  not  leave  a  wide  margin 
for  other  expenses.  The  average  weekly  wage  of  saleswomen  is 

1  Kurd,  Principles  of  City  Land  Values. 


THE  LODGER:    ECONOMIC  CONDITION  IOI 

$8.00  a  week;  a  room- rent  of  $1.50  a  week  deducts  18.7  per  cent, 
of  this,  one  of  $2.00  a  week  25  per  cent.  We  may  be  thankful  that 
not  a  very  large  number  of  sales-girls  live  in  lodgings.  No  shadow 
of  doubt  can  be  entertained  that  very  many  underpaid  mercantile 
employees,  other  than  sales-girls,  are  compelled  to  live  in  lodging- 
houses,  where  they  pay  out  a  disproportionate  amount  of  their 
incomes  for  room-rent,  and  necessarily  go  underfed  and  inade- 
quately clothed.  Especially  is  this  true  of  the  women  and  girls. 
With  salaries  almost  uniformly  lower  than  that  paid  men,  as  the 
ta.bles  show,  very  often  for  exactly  the  same  kind  and  amount  of 
work,  they  still  have  to  maintain  the  same  standards  of  living,  and 
in  the  matter  of  dress  even  a  higher  standard.  The  employer 
expects  his  female  help  to  look  neat  and  clean  constantly.  The  girl 
has  to  dress  well,  outwardly,  even  though  she  suffer  from  cold.1 
We  will  not  pursue  the  details  of  room-rent  expense  farther.  The 
reader  can  readily  see  by  a  comparison  of  the  tables  that  room-rent 
need  not  be  felt  as  a  seriously  heavy  charge  by  the  better  paid  mer- 
cantile employees  and  skilled  mechanics;  that  it  is  about  a  normal 
charge  upon  those  of  average  salary;  but  that  upon  those  whose 
salary  is  below  the  average  it  bears  as  a  heavy  burden. 

After  room- rent  comes  the  board-bill.  Whether  the  present  ar- 
rangement for  sleeping  in  one  place  and  eating  in  another  is  econom- 
ically advantageous  to  those  whom  circumstances  compel  to  live 
outside  the  pale  of  the  home  may  be  doubted.  The  lodger  of  to-day 
accepts  the  situation  as  he  finds  it,  as  a  matter  of  course.  Probably 
he  would  be  loath  to  go  back  to  the  regime  of  the  boarding-house. 
Room-rent  and  board-bill  thus  become  two  distinct  items  in  his 
expense  account. 

The  basement  dining-rooms  are  largely  patronized.  Their  almost 
invariable  rates,  as  before  noted,  are  "Gents,  $3.50,  ladies,  $3.00." 
Why  they  make  this  difference  in  price  is  something  of  a  conundrum, 
but  it  has  become  an  established  custom  and  holds  undisputed 
sway.  In  its  origin  it  was  probably  based  on  the  idea  that  women 

1  The  superintendent  of  one  of  the  best  working  girls'  homes  in  the  city  states 
that  the  wages  of  her  girls  do  not  average  over  eight  dollars  a  week.  Twelve  dollars 
is  the  highest,  and  only  two  or  three  girls  receive  as  much  as  ten.  There  are  seventy- 
five  girls  in  the  house.  The  superintendent  does  not  think  these  wages  are  below  the 
average  wages  of  girls  in  lodging-houses. 


102        THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

eat  less  than  men  and  should  consequently  be  charged  less.  It 
may  be,  also,  that  there  was  in  the  distinction  some  sub-conscious 
acknowledgement  that  women,  receiving  much  lower  wages  than 
men,  could  not  be  expected  to  pay  as  much.  Be  this  as  it  may,  it  is 
obvious  that  no  very  high  grade  of  board  can  be  served  either  to 
men  or  women  at  such  rates.  The  writer  has  eaten  in  many  of  these 
dining-rooms,  and  while  in  a  few  the  food  was  good,  considering 
the  price,  in  many  both  the  food  and  the  service  were  atrocious. 
Soup,  a  choice  of  beef  or  mutton,  boiled  potatoes,  "side  beans," 
stewed  corn,  and  blueberry  pie,  with  tea  or  coffee  (?)  would  con- 
stitute a  typical  dinner  in  the  best  of  the  dining-rooms.  The  follow- 
ing list  of  prices  is  advertised  by  one  of  the  largest  and  best-known 
eating  places: 

Full  ticket,  21  meals  $4.00 

Breakfast  and  dinner,  14  meals  3.00 

Breakfast,  7  meals  1.50 

Dinner,  7  meals  1.50 

Luncheon,  7  meals  1.20 

This  is  the  one  big  restaurant  in  the  district  which  serves  meals 
exclusively  table  d'hote,  and  it  is  as  much  an  institution  of  its  region 
as  the  State  House  is  of  Beacon  Hill.  A  sample  menu  for  luncheon 
reads  well,  but  upon  actual  test  is  distinctly  disappointing. 

The  cost  of  board  in  a  cafe*  is  somewhat  higher  than  in  a  dining- 
room.  The  writer,  in  a  personal  test  of  cafe"  life,  found  it  impossible 
to  reduce  the  cost  below  $4.50  a  week,  and  have  enough  to  eat. 
At  that  it  was  necessary  to  abstain  from  desserts  of  any  kind.  For 
breakfast  the  average  lodger  rarely  pays  over  fifteen  or  twenty  cents. 
Most  of  the  cafe's  serve  "combination  breakfasts"  some  of  which, 
offered  by  a  caf6  of  about  average  excellence,  run  as  follows: 

Small  tenderloin  steak,  French  fried  potatoes,  tea  or  coffee      30  cts. 

Broiled  lamb  chop,  fried  egg,  tea  or  coffee  25  cts. 

Fried  ham,  fried  egg,  side  beans,  tea  or  coffee  25  cts. 

Two  eggs  on  toast,  baked  beans,  tea  or  coffee  20  cts. 

Fried  sausage,  griddle  cakes,  tea  or  coffee  20  cts. 

Corned  beef  hash,  dropped  egg,  tea  or  coffee  15  cts. 

Baked  beans,  fish-cake,  tea  or  coffee  10  cts. 

A  cereal  increases  the  charge  five  or  ten  cents,  and  fruit  from  five 
to  fifteen  cents.  Most  lodgers  dispense  with  both.  The  consequent 


THE  LODGER:    ECONOMIC  CONDITION  103 

excessive  diet  of  fried  things  reveals  itself  in  sallow  complexions 
and  sluggish  circulations.  Allowing  twenty  cents  for  breakfast, 
twenty-five  for  lunch,  and  thirty-five  for  dinner,  a  modest  enough 
estimate,  we  find  a  total  of  $5.60  per  week.  As  many  of  the  cafes 
issue  discount  tickets,  which  give  a  reduction  of  ten  or  fifteen  per 
cent,  for  payment  in  advance,  the  actual  cost  of  the  week's  board 
may  be  somewhat  reduced.  One  cafe,  for  example,  offers  discount 
tickets,  $5.75  for  $5.00;  another,  $3.50  for  $3.00,  $2.15  for  $2.00, 
and  $1.10  for  $1.00.  If  the  lodger  is  thrifty  enough  to  buy  a  five- 
dollar  ticket  in  advance  he  can  reduce  the  above  $5.60  to  something 
less  than  $5.  The  best  dining-rooms  in  Ward  12  charge  nearly  as 
much  as  this  —  five  dollars  a  week  for  three  meals  a  day,  or  four 
dollars  for  breakfasts  and  dinners  being  the  highest  dining-room 
rates.  At  the  model  boarding-house  of  the  South  End  House  it  is 
found  possible  to  set  a  good  table  for  $3.50  a  week,  but  only  for  two 
meals  a  day  and  three  on  Sunday;  for  three  meals  a  day  it  is  found 
necessary  to  charge  $4.50.  There  are  no  men  in  the  house.  To 
reduce  the  board  to  these  figures  it  is  necessary  to  have  at  least 
fifteen  boarders.  It  is  doubtful  whether  the  average  lodger  can  afford 
as  much  as  this  for  board  even  in  good  times.  The  writer  does  not 
believe  that  the  average  male  lodger  pays  over  four  dollars  a  week, 
even  when  taking  his  meals  at  cafes.  For  women  the  rate  must  be 
still  lower.  Were  there  a  few  large  and  well  patronized  dining-halls 
in  the  South  End,  with  a  thousand  boarders  each,  it  would  probably 
be  possible  to  introduce  many  economies  of  large-scale  production 
and  reduce  the  cost  of  board  materially.  The  cost  of  board  to  student 
members  of  the  Harvard  Dining  Association  in  Memorial  Hall, 
Cambridge,  averages  little,  if  any,  over  four  dollars  a  week,  and  the 
board  is  incomparably  better  than  one  can  get  for  that  amount 
anywhere  in  the  South  End. 

Reducing  room- rent  and  board  to  their  lowest  terms,  $1.50  and 
$3.00  or  $3.50  a  week,  respectively,  we  must  conclude  that  a  woman 
cannot  expect  to  live  in  a  lodging-house  and  take  her  meals  out  for 
less  than  $4.50  or  $5.0x3  a  week,  and  that  a  man  cannot  live  for  less 
than  $5.00  or  $5.50.  For  a  woman  $5.00  and  for  a  man  $5.50  a 
week  may  in  the  long  run  be  set  as  the  lowest  price  for  room  and 
board.  At  these  figures  the  lodger  will  have  to  live  in  an  unheated 
and  stuffy  side  room,  or  share  a  poorly  furnished  and  often  untidy 


104        THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

square  room  with  some  roommate  about  whom  he  perhaps  knows 
little;  and  he  will  have  to  be  content  with  the  plain  and  very  often 
ill- cooked  food  of  the  basement  dining-room  and  the  cheaper  cafes. 
If  he  has  a  square  room  to  himself,  and  eats  in  the  better  cafes  his 
weekly  expenses  cannot  well  be  under  $7.00,  and  may  easily  amount 
to  nine  or  ten  dollars. 

Compare  now  the  probable  lowest  general  cost  of  living  with  the 
lowest  rates  of  salary  paid  to  mercantile  employees  (Table  38, 
columns  i  and  2).  It  is  at  once  evident  that  most  of  these  low-paid 
persons  cannot  meet  even  the  mere  board  and  room-rent  expenses 
of  lodging-house  life.  Those  of  this  class  who  do  not  live  at  home 
are  starving  themselves  in  the  cheapest  rooms  to  be  had  in  tenement- 
houses  and  the  lowest  grade  of  furnished-room  house.  The  income 
of  the  highest-paid  mercantile  employees,  on  the  other  hand,  will 
easily  permit  them  to  live  in  South  End  lodgings.  As  a  matter  of 
fact  when  salary  rises  to  $25  a  week,  the  recipient  is  likely  sooner  or 
later  to  seek  a  room  in  the  suburbs.  It  is  the  medium  grade  mer- 
cantile employees  and  the  skilled  mechanics  who  stay  in  the  lodging- 
houses.  And  with  them  board  and  room- rent  will  take  from  one  third 
to  one  half  of  their  weekly  income. 

A  considerable  amount  of  light  housekeeping  is  done  in  lodging- 
houses.  Evidence  of  this  is  afforded  by  landladies,  and  by  the  many 
small  bakeshops  and  delicatessen  establishments  scattered  through 
the  district.  How  great  are  the  privations  patiently  and  philosoph- 
ically borne  by  many  an  underpaid  clerk  or  struggling  young  sten- 
ographer will  never  be  known  except  to  the  individuals  themselves, 
for  they  are  hedged  about  by  a  pardonable  pride,  and  are  more  or 
less  cut  off  from  companionship. 

Perhaps  enough  has  been  said  to  render  it  tolerably  clear  that  the 
economic  outlook  of  the  majority  of  lodgers  is  neither  very  roseate 
nor  entirely  hopeless.  Their  life  is  one  of  daily  grind,  of  monotonous 
hand-to-mouth  living,  a  sort  of  dead  level  of  existence,  modified 
here  by  heroic  struggle,  and  there  by  indifferent  expenditure  of  total 
earnings  in  legitimate  and  illegitimate  ways.  In  the  lodging-house 
population  we  are  dealing  to  a  large  extent  with  that  great  class  of 
young  men  and  women  who,  having  a  certain  amount  of  education 
and  a  considerable  degree  of  pride,  are  struggling  along  in  the  ranks 
of  mercantile  employment  now  for  a  long  time  overcrowded.  We 


THE  LODGER:    ECONOMIC  CONDITION  105 

have  heard  the  clerks  and  salesmen  called  "the  most  despicable  of 
classes,"  from  the  idea  that  they  go  into  the  office  and  behind  the 
counter  to  be  "genteel,"  to  wear  good  clothes,  and  to  escape  the 
manual  toil  of  the  mechanic  and  artisan.  No  doubt  there  is  some 
truth  in  this  conception.  The  average  clerk  in  a  city  store  has  no 
very  broad  conception  of  life;  he  lacks  humor  to  appreciate  himself 
at  his  own  real  and  small  social  value;  he  is  prone  to  look  down 
upon  the  skilled  workman  as  of  a  lower  social  class.  Again  we  hear 
disapprobation  expressed  because  girls  who  have  to  earn  their  own 
living  generally  prefer  to  enter  stores  and  factories  than  to  go  into 
homes  as  domestic  servants.  Those  who  express  such  disapproval 
should  first  be  careful  that  they  have  some  acquaintance  with  both 
sides  of  the  question.1  And  those  who  consider  the  mercantile 
employees  "the  most  despicable  of  classes"  will  do  well  to  pause 
and  inquire  how  many  of  these  young  men  and  women  are  drawn 
into  stuffy  offices,  crowded  department  stores,  and  unhealthy  fac- 
tories by  the  siren  cry  "Room  at  the  top!"  —  and  this  when  in  fact 
every  one  knows  that  the  room  at  the  top  will  suffice  for  a  very  few 
only,  and  that  the  business  world  is  not  a  pyramid  on  its  apex,  but 
one  on  the  broad,  solid  base  constituted  by  the  thousands  of  ordinary 
men  and  women  who  have  to  do  the  every-day  tasks  of  the  world. 
As  it  is  hope  of  power  and  influence  that  draws  an  ever  increasing 
number  of  college  graduates  into  the  legal  profession,  just  so  is  it 
hope  of  advancement,  fully  as  much  as  desire  to  be  genteel  and  to 
escape  manual  labor,  that  draws  young  men  and  women  of  more 
modest  education  into  the  endless  chain  of  office  and  shop  work 
from  which  few  can  actually  escape  to  higher  levels.  It  was  a  recog- 
nition of  this  overcrowding  of  the  ranks  of  mercantile  employment 
by  men  and  women  of  moderate  attainments  that  led  M.  Leroy- 
Beaulieu  to  write,  as  far  back  as  1881:  "Le  pauperism  qui  est  a 
craindre  aujourd'hui,  ce  n'est  pas  celui  des  mise'rables  qui  ne  savent 
ne  lire  ni  e"crire,  c'est  le  pauperism  des  homines  instruits,  plus  au 
moins  capables  de  toute  tache  de  bureau;  voilk  les  vrais  pauvres 
dont  la  civilisation,  si  elle  n'y  prend  garde,  produira  des  legions  a 
Pavenir."  2  This  opinion,  it  seems  to  us,  has  been  borne  out  by 

1  See,  for  a  sympathetic  analysis  of  the  reasons  for  the  girls'  choice  of  store  and 
factory  in  preference  to  domestic  service,  Jane  Addams,  Democracy  and  Social  Ethics, 
chapter  iv. 

2  De  la  Repartition  des  Richesses,  pp.  558-59. 


106        THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

the  developments  of  the  quarter- century  which  has  passed  since  it 
was  expressed.  It  can  hardly  be  doubted  by  any  one  acquainted 
with  the  conditions  that  comparative  poverty  in  the  lodging-house 
population,  characterized  by  the  presence  of  so  many  mercantile 
employees,  is  as  grinding  as  in  the  tenements,  and  that  among  the 
lodgers  there  is  perhaps  a  more  poignant  suffering  from  loneliness 
and  absence  of  friends  and  home  life  than  is  dreamed  of  among 
tenement-dwellers. 

Finally  we  have  to  record  a  fact  which  will  no  doubt  be  new  to 
most  readers.  The  lodging-house  is  not  free  from  that  more  sordid 
type  of  poverty  that  renders  necessary  the  good  offices  and  aid  of 
the  charity  visitor.  We  shall  show  in  a  later  chapter,  moreover, 
that  the  lodging-house  tends  to  be  a  breeding-place  for  more  serious 
forms  of  social  degeneration;  here  we  have  to  look  a  moment  at 
the  connection  existing  between  the  lodging-house  and  actual 
pauperism. 

District  12  of  the  Associated  Charities  covers  a  large  part  of  the 
South  End  tenement,  and  nearly  all  of  the  South  End  lodging-house 
district.  During  the  year  1903-4  about  165  new  cases  were  recorded 
on  its  books,  of  which  more  than  one  half  came  from  lodging- 
houses.  Charity  officers  -in  the  district  say  that  the  number  of  lodg- 
ing-house cases  is  on  the  increase.  Philanthropical  workers  who  have 
had  years  of  experience  in  the  district  bear  evidence  to  the  amount 
of  real  poverty  encountered.  That  we  should  find  a  certain  number 
of  human  derelicts  in  the  furnished-room  house  is  natural.  When 
families  lose  their  means  of  support,  when  husbands  lose  their 
positions,  and  wives  are  compelled  to  go  out  and  do  battle  in  a  world 
for  which  they  unfortunately  have  had  no  practical  business  training, 
when  homes  break  up  and  household  goods  and  furniture  —  those 
last  anchors  of  men  and  women  to  a  sense  of  ownership  and  a 
permanent  interest  in  a  fixed  abode  —  are  lost,  then  the  lodging- 
house  with  its  "furnished  room  to  let"  becomes  the  only  refuge. 
Let  an  individual  "down  on  his  luck"  once  lose  all  his  personal 
property  save  what  he  can  carry  in  his  trunk  or  wear  on  his  back, 
let  him  once  enter  a  furnished- room  house  and  once  be  reduced  to 
calling  for  charity  aid,  and  the  chances  are  that  he  is  on  a  downward 
pathway  from  which  it  will  be  difficult  for  him  to  rescue  himself 
or  for  any  one  to  save  him.  We  can  make  only  slight  reference  to 


THE  LODGER:    ECONOMIC  CONDITION  IOJ 

this  subject  here.  It  was  our  purpose  to  give  outlines  of  several 
lodging-house  cases  taken  from  the  records  of  the  Associated 
Charities,  and  also  of  two  or  three  which  have  come  under  our 
personal  view,  but  space  does  not  permit.  We  may,  however, 
record  one  case  which,  though  not  typical  in  the  sense  of  being 
common,  is  nevertheless  suggestive  of  the  unexpected  variety  of 
misery  which  now  and  then  comes  to  light. 

The  man  was  a  piano-tuner  by  profession,  and  was  not  a  mean 
performer  on  the  lighter  stringed  instruments.  According  to  his 
own  story,  which  there  was  no  reason  whatever  to  doubt,  he  had 
been  a  prosperous  teacher  of  mandolin  and  guitar  in  Texas,  in 
San  Francisco,  and  finally  in  Massachusetts.  Struck  with  a  run  of 
hard  luck  in  losing  most  of  his  pupils,  and  unable  to  get  enough 
piano-tuning  to  make  a  living,  he  made  one  more  move,  to  Boston. 
There,  after  some  months'  struggle,  he  was  forced  to  apply  to  the 
Associated  Charities  for  aid.  He  was  found  on  the  top  floor  of  a 
Tremont  Street  lodging-house  with  his  wife  and  sick  baby.  Out  of 
work,  without  friends,  acquaintances,  or  business  connections,  he 
was  daily  making  desperate  efforts  to  get  a  job  as  piano-tuner  or  to 
get  a  few  pupils.  He  had  not  succeeded  in  either.  The  weeks  ran 
along  and  the  couple  managed  to  live  on  an  occasional  odd  job  of 
tuning  and  aid  advanced  by  the  Associated  Charities.  Meanwhile 
they  were  able  to  pay  no  rent,  winter  was  coming  on,  and  their 
room  had  no  heat,  and  another  baby  was  expected.  The  house  was 
kept  by  an  old  couple  who  had  not  the  heart  to  turn  them  out. 
A  visit  to  their  room  took  one  up  two  flights  of  dark  winding  stairs, 
over  carpets  gray  with  age  and  dirt,  and  through  halls  permeated 
with  the  various  odors  of  cooking  and  the  dead  air  which  quickly 
accumulates  in  a  second-rate  lodging-house.  In  response  to  a 
knock,  one  was  admitted  into  a  large  room,  the  air  of  which  was  if 
possible  worse  than  that  of  the  hall  outside.  A  gas  stove  burning  out 
what  little  oxygen  there  is,  cooking  going  on  in  an  alcove,  and  win- 
dows tightly  closed  to  keep  out  December  cold,  are  in  combination 
enough  to  explain  haggard  faces  and  sick  babies.  On  one  occasion, 
when  the  temperature  was  below  zero,  the  couple  sat  up  all  night 
between  two  gas  stoves.  Soon  afterward  the  second  baby  was  born, 
and  the  couple  were  persuaded  to  move  to  cheaper  quarters  in  a 
tenement-house.  The  man  had  still  managed  to  retain  a  strong 


108       THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

self-respect  and  a  beautiful  set  of  piano-tuning  tools,  and  when  last 
heard  of  had  obtained  a  temporary  job  in  a  piano- factory. 

The  subject  of  poverty  in  the  rooming-house  deserves  more  ex- 
tended treatment  than  we  can  here  give  to  it.  There  is  material  in 
the  charity  records  for  a  study  of  this  particular  phase  of  poverty 
and  of  the  influence  of  lodging-house  life  on  pauperism,  which 
would  be  of  definite  value  were  it  made. 


CHAPTER   XIII 
THE  LODGER:  HIS  LIFE  AND  SOCIAL  CONDITION 

OF  the  social  conditions  characterizing  rooming-house  life,  not 
the  least  important  is  the  remarkable  isolation  of  the  individual 
lodger  from  his  fellows,  —  the  absence  of  all  semblance  of  home 
ties,  of  companionship  and  friendship,  and,  for  hundreds  of  young 
men  and  women,  even  of  mere  acquaintances.  There  is  no  true 
social  life  within  the  lodging-house.  Without  the  spiritual  or  intel- 
lectual reward  that  hermits  are  supposed  to  have  for  their  isolation, 
many  lodgers  lead  hermits'  existence.  Their  place  in  the  world  is 
anomalous.  Surrounded  by  thousands  of  their  own  age  and  social 
position,  they  are  as  much  alone,  in  the  crowd,  as  they  would  be 
on  the  most  lonely  farm  on  some  windswept  New  England  hillside. 
That  the  lodgers,  taking  them  by  and  large,  do  not  know  each  other 
is  the  evidence  of  all  who  are  conversant  with  the  life  of  the  South 
End  district.  Lodgers  themselves,  landladies,  church,  charity,  and 
philanthropical  workers,  real-estate  men,  and  proprietors  of  room 
registries,  all  testify  to  this  fact.  An  especially  striking  instance 
of  this  isolation  came  to  the  writer's  attention  during  the  winter  of 
1903-04.  A  young  artist  who  had  been  earning  his  living  by  illus- 
trating newspapers  and  magazines  fell  out  of  work  and  was  in 
destitute  circumstances.  Through  a  chance  acquaintanceship  with  a 
philanthropic  worker  who  lived  near  by,  he  was  helped  along  during 
the  winter  with  an  odd  job  here  and  there.  Then,  toward  spring, 
some  one  discovered  living  in  the  same  house  with  him,  during  all 
the  time  of  his  lack  of  employment,  another  illustrator  who  had 
had  more  work  than  he  could  handle,  and  who  had  been  looking 
for  an  assistant.  The  two  men  were  introduced,  to  their  mutual 
advantage,  but  previous  to  their  introduction  by  an  outsider  they 
had  never  spoken  to  each  other,  although  meeting  nearly  every  day. 

To  what  causes  may  such  isolation  be  attributed?  Differences 
of  nationality  and  employment  may  have  some  slight  effect  in  this 
direction,  but  not  much.  We  have  seen  some  tendency  of  persons 


110       THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

in  the  same  occupation  to  congregate  in  the  same  general  locality  — 
an  indication,  perhaps,  of  some  degree  of  sociability  within  the 
locality.  Within  individual  houses,  however,  we  found  a  large 
number  of  employments  represented,  and  can  scarcely  doubt  that 
the  resultant  tendency  is  for  the  lodgers  of  the  same  house  to  keep 
individually  to  themselves.  A  far  stronger  cause  of  isolation  is  the 
lack  of  fixed  residence  on  the  part  of  most  lodgers.  As  we  have  seen, 
fully  one  half  the  lodging-house  population  changes  its  residence 
every  year.  The  inmates  of  a  house  are  continually  changing  —  old 
ones  dropping  out,  whither  who  knows,  and  new  ones  hovering  in, 
whence  and  with  what  antecedent  connections  who  can  tell  ?  The 
absence  of  gatherings  of  lodgers,  indeed  of  any  room  in  which 
they  may  gather,  and  of  any  occasion  for  such  gathering,  contribute 
further  to  the  general  desolateness  of  lodging-house  life.  There  is 
no  lingering  after  meals,  no  singing,  no  discussion,  no  summer 
afternoon  excursion  planned  by  the  lodgers  of  a  house.  Only  in 
rare  instances  has  a  rooming-house  a  homelike  atmosphere.  The 
landlady,  even  if  she  wished,  might  find  it  hard  to  bring  her  lodgers 
together;  for  if  the  average  landlady  looks  upon  her  lodger  simply 
and  solely  as  a  rent-paying  organism,  the  lodger  returns  the  com- 
pliment by  regarding  her  as  a  creature  whose  duty  it  is  to  sweep 
his  room,  make  his  bed,  and  mind  her  own  business.  With  this 
attitude  of  mutual  indifference,  not  to  say  veiled  hostility,  between 
landlady  and  lodger,  place  the  uncongeniality  which  must  exist 
between  people  who  are  kept  strangers  to  each  other  through  fre- 
quent change  of  address,  differences  in  employment,  in  ideas 
and  in  mental  horizon,  and  lack  of  opportunities  to  meet  in  friendly 
intercourse.  Isolation  is  the  natural  result.1 

1  Walter  Besant's  Autobiography  contains  an  expressive  passage  on  the  isolation 
of  the  lodger:  . 

"When  I  was  tired  and  hungry  I  would  look  for  a  chop-house,  dine,  and  then  walk 
slowly  home  to  my  lodgings,  taking  a  cup  of  coffee  at  a  coffee-house  on  the  way.  I 
ought  to  have  stayed  home  in  the  evening,  and  worked,  but  Featherstone  Buildings 
is  a  very  quiet  place.  ...  In  the  evening  the  place  was  absolutely  silent.  The  silence 
sometimes  helped  me  to  work,  sometimes  it  got  on  my  nerves  and  became  intolerable. 
I  would  then  go  out  and  wander  about  the  streets  for  the  sake  of  animation,  the 
crowds  and  the  lights,  or  I  would  go  half-price  —  a  shilling  —  to  the  pit  of  the  theatre, 
or  I  would  drop  into  a  casino  and  sit  in  the  corner  and  look  on  at  the  dancing.  The 
thing  was  risky,  but  I  came  to  no  harm.  To  this  day  I  cannot  think  of  those  lonely 
evenings  in  my  London  lodging  without  a  touch  of  the  old  terror.  I  see  myself  sitting 


THE  LODGER:    HIS  LIFE  AND  SOCIAL  CONDITION      III 

In  one  sense,  of  course,  all  individuals  are  isolated,  but  many 
a  lodger  may  not  have  even  the  solace  of  chance  acquaintances. 
In  the  lodging-house  world,  furthermore,  isolation  has  its  own 
peculiar  dangers.  Take  the  typical  case  of  a  young  fellow  coming 
in  from  the  country  to  earn  his  living.  He  has  secured  a  position 
in  some  mercantile  establishment  at  eight  or  ten  dollars  a  week. 
He  comes  to  the  city  an  absolute  stranger,  ignorant  of  its  complex- 
ities, destitute  of  worldly  wisdom,  and  very  probably  unprovided 
with  that  strong,  self-reliant  moral  reason,  without  which  he  will 
be  at  sea  when  he  encounters  the  host  of  confusing  problems  his  new 
life  will  certainly  present.  He  first  must  find  a  place  to  live,  which, 
for  the  time  being,  means  a  place  to  eat  and  sleep.  In  the  old  days 
he  would  probably  have  been  taken  in  by  some  kindly-disposed 
boarding-house  landlady,  but  to-day  the  motherly  landlady  is 
chiefly  a  dream  of  the  past.  What,  then,  are  the  steps  by  which  he 
acquires  his  introduction  to  city  life  ?  First  of  all  he  lands  in  some 
lodging-house.  It  may  be  a  homelike  place,  one  of  the  most  reput- 
able lodging-houses  in  the  city.  It  may  be  a  den  of  thieves  and  pros- 
titutes. The  chances  are  that  it  is  neither,  but  simply  one  of  the 
hundreds  of  nondescript,  mediocre  houses  of  the  South  or  West  End. 
He  has  a  typical  little  six-by-eight  hall  bedroom.  He  sees  little 
or  nothing  of  the  other  lodgers,  even  of  those  on  the  same  floor 
with  himself.  He  takes  his  meals  in  some  near-by  basement  dining- 
room.  The  only  acquaintances  he  makes  for  a  long  time  are  the 
casual  ones  of  the  office  and  counter.  He  may  begin  to  drift  into 
a  saloon  or  a  pool-room  on  his  way  home  in  the  evening  and  thus 
pick  up  a  few  more  connections.  As  time  goes  on  and  he  becomes 
more  and  more  sophisticated  he  will  not  scruple  to  follow  up  the 
chance  meetings  of  the  cafe  table,  and  finally  those  of  the  lodging- 
house  itself.  In  fact  it  is  conceivable  that  his  first  acquaintances 
may  be  in  the  house.  They  may  be  either  good  or  bad;  in  either 
case  they  are  accidental  and  casual.  But  the  possibilities  wrapped 
up  in  such  casual  meetings  are  not  incapable  of  assuming  a  danger- 

at  a  table,  books  stretched  out  before  me.  I  go  to  work.  Presently  I  sit  up  and  look 
around.  The  silence  is  too  much  for  me.  I  take  my  hat  and  go  out.  There  are 
thousands  of  young  fellows  to-day  who  find,  as  I  found  every  evening,  the  silence 
and  loneliness  intolerable."  —  Quoted  in  a  pamphlet  recently  issued  by  the  American 
Institute  of  Social  Service. 


112       THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

ous  aspect;  as  when  a  woman  of  immoral  type  happens  to  take 
a  room  next  to  the  young  country  lad  on  the  third  floor  rear. 

The  general  absence  of  a  reception-room  for  the  use  of  roomers 
and  their  friends  is  a  very  important  cause  for  the  lack  of  social  life 
and  companionship.  Landladies  affirm,  as  we  saw  in  Chapter  vin, 
and  with  good  show  of  reason,  that  they  cannot  afford  the  loss  of 
rent  which  would  necessarily  result  from  the  reserval  of  a  room  as  a 
public  parlor.  But  the  fact  that  lodgers  do  not  demand  this  require- 
ment of  common  decency  shows  how  the  pressure  of  economic 
necessity  will  modify  moral  conventions  and  standards.  Probably 
not  one  girl  in  a  hundred  who  finds  herself  in  a  rooming-house 
would  have  thought  while  at  home  of  receiving  a  gentleman  caller 
in  her  bedroom.  Yet  ninety  per  cent,  of  the  women  lodgers,  if  they 
associate  with  men  at  all,  must  either  receive  them  in  that  way  or 
loiter  with  them  in  the  streets.  Some  landladies,  indeed,  go  farther 
and  prescribe  definite  rules  hampering  or  preventing  social  inter- 
course in  their  houses.  A  few  prohibit  their  lodgers,  especially 
women,  from  having  callers  at  all.  One  landlady  will  not  have 
people  in  her  house  who  exchange  visits  because  she  feels  that 
they  will  be  sure  to  get  discontented  by  discussing  herself  and  her 
house. 

On  the  other  hand,  isolation  is  not  entirely  due  to  the  landlady 
and  economic  conditions.  Many  women  lodgers  take  great  care  not 
to  make  acquaintance  to  any  extent  with  people  in  the  same  house, 
often  because  of  some  disagreeable  experience  or  for  the  sake  of 
protecting  their  privacy,  about  which  they  are  sometimes  over- 
solicitous. 

With  social  intercourse  hampered  in  so  many  ways,  spare  time  — 
evenings  and  Sundays  —  hangs  heavily  on  the  roomer.  He  is  not 
a  church-going  person,  and  his  chief  literary  resource  is  the  Sunday 
newspaper.  Whether  that  satisfies  the  cravings  of  his  soul  after 
enlightenment  we  do  not  know.  In  the  summer-time,  when  the 
warm  evenings  come,  the  lodger  deserts  his  room  for  the  front  steps. 
Probably  more  lodgers  come  to  know  each  other  in  these  spring  and 
summer  evening  loiterings  than  in  any  other  way.  What  the  average 
lodger  does  with  his  long  evenings  in  the  winter  is  something  of  a 
mystery.  He  has  the  evening  paper  (not  the  "Transcript,"  which  is 
too  expensive),  but  few  books.  In  the  many  rooms  of  lodgers  which 


THE  LODGER:    HIS  LIFE  AND  SOCIAL  CONDITION      113 

the  writer  has  seen  in  different  parts  of  the  district,  books  and 
evidences  of  reading  were  rare  exceptions.  The  lodger  lives  in  his 
trunk.  Books  would  be  an  impediment,  even  could  he  afford  to  buy 
them.  There  is,  of  course,  considerable  visiting  back  and  forth 
between  lodgers  who  have  been  in  the  city  long  enough  to  get 
acquainted,  but  the  amount  is  not  great,  and  certainly  not  so  great 
as  it  would  be  were  there  civilized  facilities  for  the  reception  of 
callers.  The  theatres  of  the  South  End  help  to  while  away  an  occa- 
sional evening.  Probably  one  reason  melodrama  has  such  a  hold 
on  the  South  End  would  be  found  in  the  dreary  routine  of  the  life 
of  the  lodger  and  tenement-dweller. 

Various  educational  advantages  are  within  reach  of  the  lodger, 
if  he  only  knew  of  them  more  generally.  The  Public  Library  is 
easily  accessible  from  the  district.  The  South  End  Branch  of  it 
was  located,  prior  to  1904,  in  the  basement  of  the  English  High 
School  —  a  poor  situation.  Probably  comparatively  few  lodgers 
knew  of  its  existence  at  all.  It  now,  however,  occupies  the  old 
Everyday  Church  building  on  Shawmut  Avenue,  is  above  ground, 
easily  accessible,  near  the  centre  of  the  district,  and  it  bids  fair  to 
increase  rapidly  in  usefulness. 

Chief  of  the  educational  advantages  in  the  neighborhood,  avail- 
able for  lodgers,  is  the  Central  Evening  High  School,  held  in  the 
building  of  the  English  High.  The  school  provides  "special  advan- 
tages for  those  who  are  employed  during  the  day  and  who  desire  a 
thorough  and  practical  training  to  assist  them  in  securing  advance- 
ment in  business.  The  courses  of  study  comprise  all  the  studies  of 
the  day  high  school  and  of  the  practical  business  college.  The 
school  is  open  free  of  charge  to  all  persons  living  in  Boston  who  are 
above  fourteen  years  of  age."  1  A  considerable  share  of  its  pupils  are 
said  to  be  lodgers.2  The  Mercantile  Library  Club,  on  Tremont 
Street,  has  a  membership  of  one  hundred  about  equally  divided 
between  past  residents  of  the  districts  and  the  better  class  of  lodgers. 

1  From  the  Announcement  of  the  school. 

2  The  writer  asked  the  School  Committee  for  the  privilege  of  examining  the  card 
catalogue  of  the  school's  enrollment  for  the  purpose  of  ascertaining  exactly  to  what 
extent  the  lodging-house  population  avails  itself  of  the  school,  but  for  reasons  known 
only  to  themselves  the  officials  of  the  Committee  refused  to  grant  the  request.  Other- 
wise we  should  be  able  to  give  much  more  definite  information  on  an  important 
point. 


114        THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

Parker  Memorial,  on  Berkeley  Street,  an  institutional  Unitarian 
church,  and  Shawmut  Congregational  Church,  on  Tremont  Street, 
offer  many  advantages  to  roomers,  as  do  also  the  Young  Men's 
and  Young  Women's  Christian  Associations  and  the  Young  Men's 
Christian  Union.  The  South  End  House,  with  its  staff  of  university 
settlement  workers,  is  also  seeking  gradually  to  extend  various 
social  and  educational  advantages  to  lodgers.1 

1  For  the  work  of  the  South  End  House  in  attacking  the  lodging-house  problem, 
see  South  End  House  Report,  1906,  pp.  8,  24,  and  25,  and  earlier  reports. 


CHAPTER   XIV 

VITAL   STATISTICS 

Sec.  I.   Statistical  Data 

IT  would  be  surprising  if  a  population  group  so  well  defined  as 
that  of  the  South  End  lodging-house  district  had  no  noticeable 
influence  upon  the  phenomena  of  births,  deaths,  marriages,  density 
and  age-grouping  of  population,  sex-distribution,  sickness  and 
health,  and  the  like.  In  this  chapter  we  shall  try  to  ascertain  what 
influences  can  be  traced  to  the  lodging-house.  Perhaps  the  most 
important  consideration  in  this  connection  is  the  influence  of  the 
lodging-house  on  the  marriage- rate,  and  on  the  question  of  race- 
perpetuation  or  race-suicide,  which  has  been  more  or  less  in  the 
public  consciousness  for  the  past  few  years.  The  question  of  mar- 
riage is  reserved  to  a  later  chapter.  This  chapter  will  be  devoted  to 
density  of  population,  age-  and  sex-distribution,  and  births  and  deaths. 

It  should  be  understood  at  the  outset  that  the  conclusions  we  may 
reach  in  this  chapter  are  approximations  only,  and  that  they  are 
not  highly  refined  statistical  deductions.  Much  as  we  should  prefer 
accuracy  and  refinement,  we  cannot,  in  the  present  state  of  urban 
statistics,  attain  them.  This  is  especially  true  of  an  inquiry,  like 
the  present  one,  limited  to  a  single  and  specific  population-group 
covering  a  limited  territory  not  exactly  coextensive  with  any  com- 
bination of  administrative  districts  for  which  statistics  are  pub- 
lished. The  statistical  data  in  any  way  available  are  discouragingly 
meagre  and  inadequate,  not  to  say  misleading.  In  the  present 
conditions  of  our  public  statistical  bureaus  specialized  and  localized 
statistics  are  perhaps  not  to  be  looked  for.  They  can  be  had  only 
when  the  bureaus  are  given  larger  resources  in  appropriations,  in 
working  force,  and  in  leaders  who  understand  the  value  of  special 
social  statistics  for  small  areas.  We  have  not,  unfortunately,  a 
Charles  Booth  always  standing  ready  to  meet  the  expense  of  collect- 
ing facts  and  statistics  concerning  the  life  and  labor  of  every  branch 
of  the  population,  and  of  every  unknown  section  of  the  city;  other- 
wise we  should  not  remain  in  such  dense  ignorance  of  the  conditions 


Il6        THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

for  existence  surrounding  great  masses  of  people  who  are  practically 
our  next-door  neighbors.  How  great  is  the  dearth  of  statistical  data 
and  how  it  baffles  the  investigator  may  perhaps  be  seen  as  we  pro- 
ceed.1 If  the  lodging-house  section  were  coterminous  with  ward 
boundaries,  or  if  some  one  ward  were  entirely  filled  with  lodging- 
houses,  it  would  be  easy  to  utilize  the  ward  statistics  at  present 
available,  so  far  as  they  go.  Unfortunately,  however,  the  South  End 
lodging-house  district  covers  parts  of  three  different  wards.  Ward  9 
is  a  lodging-house  section  in  its  western  portion;  about  half  of 
Ward  10  is  a  lodging-house  district;  and  Ward  12  is  almost  entirely, 
but  not  completely,  a  lodging-house  district.  Little  use  can  be  made 
of  the  statistics  of  Wards  9  and  10  by  themselves,  and  in  using  those 
of  Ward  12,  par  excellence  the  lodging-house  ward  of  the  city,  we 
must  bear  in  mind  that  certain  disturbing  influences  deflect  the 
figures  from  what  they  would  be  did  they  apply  to  a  purely  lodging- 
house  population.  These  disturbing  elements  are,  first,  five  or  six 

1  Urban  population  and  vital  statistics,  if  given  at  all  for  a  unit  smaller  than  the 
city  as  a  whole,  are  given  by  wards  or  other  large  administrative  districts  which 
have  practically  no  relation  to  population-groups,  and  in  which  changes  of  boundary 
from  time  to  time  render  comparison  at  different  periods  of  time  difficult  and  some- 
times impossible.  Moreover,  such  districts  are  too  large  to  give  accurate  results. 
Were  data  collected  and  published  by  voting  precincts,  or  better,  by  equally  small 
but  permanent  statistical  divisions,  most  of  these  difficulties  would  be  obviated, 
because  precincts  are  so  small  that  the  investigator  could  combine  them  at  pleasure 
so  as  to  include  just  that  area  he  wished  to  include  and  no  more.  As  yet,  however, 
with  the  exception  of  simple  statistics  of  population,  the  ward  is  the  smallest  unit  used. 

The  only  data  for  accurate  charting  and  calculating  of  density  of  population  are 
published  in  the  31^  Annual  Report  of  the  Mass.  Bureau  of  Statistics  of  Labor  (1900), 
pp.  57-60,  where  population  by  precincts  for  1895  and  1900  is  given,  and  the  pre- 
liminary returns  of  the  State  Census  of  1905  on  Population  and  Legal  Voters  (pp.  10, 
u).  For  age-distribution  there  is  nothing  published,  either  by  wards  or  precincts. 
The  only  material  even  remotely  available  on  this  point  consists  of  statistics  by  wards 
of  persons  of  school  age,  to  be  found  in  the  Twelfth  Census,  Population,  part  i,  p.  222, 
and  in  the  Reports  of  the  Boston  School  Committee,  the  City  Statistical  Department, 
and  the  Municipal  Register.  For  sex-distribution  statistics  by  wards  are  given  in 
the  Annual  Report  of  the  Registry  Department  of  the  City  of  Boston  (since  1901). 
No  statistics  of  morbidity  are  available.  For  marriages  statistics  are  published  only 
for  the  city  as  a  whole,  in  the  reports  of  the  City  Registry  Department.  Previous  to 
1901  this  Department  published  its  statistics  only  for  the  city  at  large,  but  since  that 
year  certain  vital  statistics  have  been  published  by  wards  —  an  innovation  for  which 
the  City  Registrar  deserves  sincere  Jhanks.  It  is  to  be  hoped  that  a  way  may  be 
cleared  for  an  extension  of  this  policy. 


VITAL  STATISTICS  117 

short  tenement-house  streets,  secondly,  a  number  of  apartment- 
houses,  and  thirdly,  a  few  private  residences.  Their  effect  will  be 
noted  as  we  proceed. 

In  considering  the  influence  of  lodging-house  life  upon  vital 
statistics  it  is  convenient  to  distinguish  between  general  and  special 
influences.  The  ultimate  purpose  of  all  statistics  is  to  furnish  facts 
about  the  public  welfare,  and  data  upon  which  suggestions  for  im- 
provement may  find  logical  foundation.  Certain  phenomena  are 
of  prime  importance  in  themselves  as  having  a  direct  and  forceful 
influence  upon  the  public  weal.  Such  are  births,  deaths,  and  mar- 
riages, and  to  a  lesser  extent,  density  of  population.  Statistical 
knowledge  of  these  phenomena  is  directly  valuable.  Other  phe- 
nomena are  important  because  of  the  influence  they  exert  over  birth 
and  death  rates,  the  number  of  marriages,  the  size  of  families,  and 
the  like.  Age  and  sex,  density  of  population,  nationality  or  race, 
occupation,  etc.,  are  influences  of  a  general  nature  active  everywhere 
at  all  times.  In  addition  to  these  may  be  mentioned  certain  more 
specific  influences  peculiar  to  city  life.  Here  we  must  place  the  sani- 
tary condition  of  the  houses  and  streets,  regularity  or  irregularity 
of  living,  prevalence  or  absence  of  prostitution,  intemperance, 
crime,  the  general  physical  condition  of  the  people,1  and  last  but 
not  least,  their  psychological  state. 

With  all  these  influences,  general  and  special,  the  lodging-house 
has  a  more  or  less  distinct  connection,  either  as  affected  by  them 
or  as  affecting  them.  Its  connection  with  birth-rates  is  direct  and 
unmistakable.  Some  influence  can  also  be  traced  on  death-rates 
and  on  density  of  population.  There  is  also  an  indirect  influence 
on  all  these  phenomena  through  the  sex  and  age  constitution  of  the 
lodging-house  population,  and  through  the  physical  and  moral 
environment  the  rooming-house  throws  about  the  individual. 

Sec.  II.  Density  of  Population 

It  may  be  laid  down  as  a  rule,  well  borne  out  as  we  shall  see  by 
statistical  data,  and  certainly  corroborated  by  personal  knowledge 

1  Much  is  to  be  looked  for  in  this  particular  matter  not  only  from  statistics  of 
mortality  and  morbidity,  but  from  the  physical  examinations  and  anthropometry 
in  our  gymnasiums.  It  is  not  too  much  to  hope  that  every  ward  in  the  city  will 
eventually  be  provided  with  a  municipal  gymnasium  and  a  trained  physical  director. 


Il8        THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

of  lodging-house  conditions,  that  wherever  a  private  residence 
degenerates  into  a  lodging-house  the  natural  consequence  is  an 
increase  in  the  number  of  people  living  under  its  roof. 

The  South  End  residence  of  twenty-five  years  ago  was  the  exact 
prototype  of  the  private  residence  of  the  Back  Bay  (Ward  u)  to-day. 
Some  indication  of  the  increase  in  the  number  of  persons  per  dwell- 
ing in  the  South  End  since  it  became  a  lodging-house  section  may 
therefore  be  had  from  a  comparison  with  the  present  Back  Bay 
district.  In  1900  Ward  12,  our  lodging-house  ward,  had  an  average 
of  10.81  persons  per  dwelling;  that  for  Ward  n  was  only  6.66 
per  dwelling.  Taking  these  figures  as  they  stand,  we  should  con- 
clude that  a  change  from  a  private  residence  to  a  lodging-house 
will  in  the  long  run  result  in  an  increase  of  about  four  persons  per 
dwelling.  This  simple  deduction,  however,  would  fall  short  of  the 
truth.  Four  of  the  precincts  of  Ward  1 1  with  a  population  of  9840 
—  more  than  half  the  total  population  of  the  ward  —  are  in  the 
West  End  and  up  the  side  of  Beacon  Hill,  and,  with  the  exception 
of  a  few  streets  on  the  Hill  where  many  old  Boston  families  still 
cling,  constitute  a  district  of  densely  populated  tenement-  and 
lodging-houses.  The  other  five  precincts,  with  a  population  of  9434, 
constitute  a  fashionable  residence  district.  It  is  evident  that  the 
crowded  houses  of  the  four  West  End  precincts  must  very  appre- 
ciably raise  the  average  number  of  persons  per  dwelling  for  the  ward 
as  a  whole.  How  much  less  than  6<66  the  average  would  be  for  the 
private  residence  section  alone  it  is  impossible  to  say,  but  it  would 
certainly  be  reduced  materially.1  It  might  on  the  other  hand  be 
objected  that  the  average  for  Ward  12  is  raised  by  the  tenement- 
houses  in  the  ward,  but  the  objection  would  be  ill-founded  because 
the  tenement-houses  of  the  ward  are  all  small,  and  the  effect,  if 
anything,  would  be  to  reduce  rather  than  increase  the  average 
number  of  persons  per  dwelling.  On  the  whole,  therefore,  it  seems 
likely  that  if  we  could  but  isolate  the  statistics  for  the  private  resi- 
dence on  the  one  hand  and  those  for  the  lodging-house  on  the  other, 
we  should  find  that  the  change  from  private  residence  to  lodging- 
house  would  result  in  at  least  a  doubling  of  population.  This  con- 

1  We  have  to  remember,  however,  that  while  Back  Bay  families  may  be  small 
they  may  have  a  bountiful  supply  of  servants.  In  the  lower  Back  Bay  it  is  not  uncom- 
mon to  find  from  six  to  nine  servants  living  in  a  house. 


VITAL  STATISTICS  119 

elusion  is  more  than  substantiated  by  personal  observation.  Taking 
nearly  a  hundred  houses  as  a  basis,  the  writer  found  the  average 
number  per  house  to  be  a  trifle  over  fourteen.  How  many  private 
residences  of  the  Back  Bay  contain  half  this  number? 

That  Ward  12  (even  including  as  it  does  not  only  the  vast  body 
of  rooming-houses,  but  also  the  numerous  apartment-houses,  a  con- 
siderable number  of  small  tenements,  and  a  sprinkling  of  private 
houses,  which  tend  to  lower  the  average)  has  a  high  average  number 
of  persons  per  dwelling,  when  compared  with  other  sections  of  the 
city,  may  be  seen  from  Table  41.  The  general  situation  and  charac- 
ter of  each  ward  is  noted  in  the  table,  and  may  be  of  interest  in 
connection  with  the  other  tables  of  this  chapter. 

TABLE  41.    AVERAGE  NUMBER  OF  PERSONS  TO  A  DWELLING,  BOS- 
TON, BY  WARDS 

Ward    Persons  to  a  dwelling  Location  and  character  of  ward 

1904-5 1       1902 2 

6  19.6  20.33         North  End;   foreign  tenement. 

8  16.2  J5-77         West  End;   foreign  tenement. 

7  12.3  11.66         South  Cove;   tenement-houses. 

9  11.9  x3-33         South  End;  tenement-  and  lodging-houses. 
3        11.9  921         Charlestown;   tenement-houses. 

2  11.4  10.43  East  Boston;   tenement-houses. 

10  10.9  10.48  Back  Bay  and  South  End;  lodging-  and  apart- 
ment-houses. 

19  10.1  10.00  Roxbury;   largely  tenement-houses. 

5  10.0  9.92  Charlestown;   tenement  houses. 

13  9.7  10.56  South  Boston;   tenement-houses. 
18  9,4  9.88  Roxbury;   tenement-houses. 

12  $.2  10.81  South  End;  lodging-houses. 

17  9.2  9.36  Roxbury;   tenement-houses. 

14  8.8  8.54  South  Boston;  tenement- and  apartment-houses. 
22  8.6  7.73  Roxbury;   miscellaneous. 

15  84  8.48         South  Boston;   tenement-houses, 
i          8.1  7.56         East  Boston;  miscellaneous. 

1  Calculated  by  dividing  the  population  of  each  ward  as  given  in  the  State  Census  of 
1905  by  the  number  of  dwellings  in  the  ward  as  given  by  the  latest  Report  of  the  City 
Registrar.    See  Population  and  Legal  Voters  (preliminary  pamphlet  of  the  census  of 
1905)  pp.  9-11;  and  Annual  Report  oj  the  Registry  Department  of  the  City  oj  Boston, 
1904,  p.  297.  The  figures  here  calculated  are  more  accurate  than  the  latest  available 
Registry  figures,  because  based  on  actual  population,  and  not  estimated,  returns. 

2  Annual  Report  oj  Registry  Department,  1902,  p.  268.  For  the  Registrar's  method 
of  adjusting  the  census  figures  (of  1900)  to  the  number  of  dwellings  as  shown  by 
the  returns  of  the  City  Assessing  Department  see  the  same  Report,  pp.  214-215. 


120        THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

21  7.9  7.55  Roxbury;   miscellaneous. 

20  7.6  6.68  Dorchester;  residences  and  apartment-houses. 

ii  7.3  6.66  Back  Bay;  fine  residences  and  apartment-houses. 

23  6.7  6.35  West  Roxbury;  suburban  district. 

24  6.7  6.25  Dorchester;   suburban  district. 
4  6.7  7.29  Charlestown;   miscellaneous. 

25  5.1  5.61  Brighton;  suburban  district. 

16          4.8  8.49         Dorchester;  largely  tenement-houses,  and  much 

vacant  land. 

The  table  shows  well  the  characteristic  density  resulting  from 
the  presence  of  the  lodging-house.  In  1902  only  four  wards  had 
a  greater  estimated  density  per  dwelling  than  Ward  12,  and  these 
were  without  exception  the  great  tenement-house  wards  of  the  city. 
By  1904  Ward  12  had  fallen  to  tenth  place,  but  still  ranked  among 
the  dense  tenement-house  wards.  The  ten  wards  showing  the  highest 
averages  are  all  either  tenement- house  or  lodging-house  wards. 
According  to  the  State  Census  of  1905  the  population  of  Ward  12 
has  declined  (see  page  7),  owing  probably  to  the  encroachment  of 
business.  The  estimates  of  the  Registry  Department  may  there- 
fore be  erroneous,  but  not  flagrantly  so;  or  it  may  be  that  the  very 
encroachment  of  business  deprives  the  district  of  more  houses  than 
it  does,  in  proportion,  of  population,  and  that  the  number  of  per- 
sons per  dwelling  may  still  rise.  Ward  u,  which  is  like  the  South 
End  as  it  was  a  quarter-century  ago,  comes  near  the  bottom. 
Naturally  the  suburban  wards  have  the  lowest  averages. 

The  changes  of  whole  streets,  precincts,  or  wards  from  private 
residences  to  lodging-houses,  which  gradually  took  place  in  the 
South  End,  evidently  can  have  but  one  result.  The  district  will 
suffer  a  large  increase  in  population.  This  increase  in  what  is  now 
the  lodging-house  district  can  actually  be  observed  in  the  statistics 
covering  the  period  in  which  the  change  took  place.  Ward  18,  the 
old  ward  which  previous  to  the  change  in  ward  lines  in  1895  was 
nearly  coterminous  with  the  present  Ward  12,  showed  an  increase 
of  population  in  the  decade  1885  to  1895  °f  25  Per  cent-  Between 
1895  and  1900,  also,  the  growth  continued,  but  at  a  somewhat 
slower  rate  —  about  9  per  cent,  increase  for  the  five  years.  It  is 
impossible  to  account  for  this  growth  on  the  basis  of  natural  increase. 
The  death-rate  of  the  present  ward  far  exceeds  the  birth-rate,  and 
probably  has  done  so  for  many  years.1  Nor  can  it  be  accounted  for 

1  Birth-  and  death-rates  by  wards  were  not  compiled  previous  to  1900. 


CHARTXHI, 


VITAL  STATISTICS  121 

to  any  extent  by  the  erection  and  occupation  of  new  buildings. 
The  territory  was  already  pretty  completely  covered  with  dwellings. 
Of  late  years  a  few  cheap  apartment-houses  have  been  built,  but 
they  have  usually  taken  the  place  of  lodging-houses  torn  down  or 
remodelled  to  make  room  for  them.  The  only  possible  explanation 
of  the  increase,  therefore,  seems  to  be  the  influx  of  lodgers  which 
took  place  within  the  decade  1885  to  1895  and  continued  with 
slightly  diminished  force  to  1900.* 

That  the  South  End  rooming-house  district  is  one  of  the  most 
densely  populated  portions  of  the  city  may  be  seen  from  Chart  xn. 
We  are  fortunate  in  possessing  population  statistics  by  voting  pre- 
cincts for  the  year  1900  and  also  precinct  maps  showing  the  location 
and  boundaries  of  each  precinct.2 

A  glance  at  the  map  will  show  that  the  foreign  and  tenement- 
house  wards,  Wards  6  and  8,  are  by  far  the  most  densely  populated 
portions  of  the  city.  After  these  come  portions  of  Wards  13,  14, 
and  15,  in  South  Boston,  and  Ward  9  in  the  South  End.  Ward  9 
merits  somewhat  closer  examination.  The  thickly  populated  western 
portion,  next  to  Ward  12,  is  a  typical  lodging-house  district.  It  is 
in  fact,  as  will  be  seen  by  reference  to  Chart  xm,  the  most  densely 
populated  portion  of  the  lodging-house  section,  so  far  as  we  can 
judge  by  male  lodgers  alone. 

Judging  of  density  by  the  imperfect  standard  of  number  of  per- 
sons per  acre,  Ward  12  stands  fifth,  as  shown  by  the  following  table: 

1  See  Chapter  m. 

2  See  the  Report  for  1900  of  the  Mass.  Bureau  of  Statistics  of  Labor.  With  the 
data  it  is  possible  to  construct  a  fairly  accurate  map  of  density.   Each  dot  in  the  chart 
represents  approximately  one  hundred  persons,  and  the  dots  are  placed  within  the 
precincts  as  nearly  as  possible  where  the  population  actually  is.   The  precinct  out- 
lines are  then  erased,  that  the  map  may  not  be  too  complicated.   Large  park  areas 
and  uninhabited  spaces,  such  as  docks,  railroad  yards,  unfilled  flats,  outlying  and 
unsettled  territory,  are  given  no  dots.     These  uninhabited  areas  are  located  with 
the  help  of  a  large  map  of  the  city,  in  connection  with  careful  personal  observation. 
This  method  of  showing  density  is  as  accurate  as  can  be  attained  with  the  data 
at  hand.    Compared  with  the  usual  method  of  representing  density  by  wards  and 
scattering  the  density  uniformly  over  each  respective  ward  the  method  here  followed 
is  perfection  itself,  because  it  puts  the  population  where  it  belongs.   A  map  of  the 
city  in  the  old  way  gives  Ward  6  a  much  less  dense  population  than  either  Ward  8 
or  Ward  9,  whereas  the  truth  is  that  Ward  6  (the  North  End)  is  fully  as  densely 
populated  as  Ward  8  (the  West  End)  and  that  the  greater  part  of  Ward  9  does  not 
compare  with  either  in  density. 


122        THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 
TABLE  42.   DENSITY  OF  POPULATION,  BY  WARDS,  BOSTON,  1904-5  * 

Ward  Density  Ward  Density  Ward  Density 

8  185.6  10                 60.5  19                 38.4 

9  H9-°  J7                 57-4  22  36.5 
6  102.3  M               57-4  13  35-8 

18  100.6  3  44.6  ii  35.2 

12  923  4  41.5  20  30.2 

15  83.6  21  41.4  I  22.2 

2  72.6  7  39.5  24  14.6 

5  61.7  16  38.6  25  7.9 

23  3-4 

To  summarize  the  results  obtained  from  such  population  and 
density  statistics  as  are  available,  we  find,  (i)  that  both  statistics 
and  experience  will  show  a  large  increase  in  the  number  of  persons 
per  dwelling  wherever  a  private  residence  district  changes  to  lodg- 
ing-houses; (2)  that  the  notable  increase  of  population  since  1885 
(up  to  1900)  in  what  is  now  the  South  End  lodging-house  district 
coincided  in  time  with  the  change  from  private  residences  to  lodging- 
houses  and  was  due  to  that  change;  (3)  that  the  present  lodging- 
house  district  is  one  of  the  most  densely  populated  portions  of  the 
city,  second  only  to  the  most  densely  populated  tenement-house 
districts. 

Sec.  III.     The  influence  oj  the  lodging-house  on  distribution  of 

population  by  sex 

For  this  phase  of  the  subject  we  have  three  contradictory  sets 
of  data:  first,  the  statistics  of  sex-distribution  by  wards;  secondly, 
statistics  of  the  sex  of  boarders  and  lodgers  in  1895;  and  thirdly, 
the  results  of  some  personal  observation. 

The  following  table  gives  the  ward  statistics: 

TABLE  43.    PERCENTAGE  OF  MALES  AND  OF  FEMALES  TO  TOTAL 
WARD  POPULATION,  190!  2 

Ward  Males  Females  Excess  of  males    Excess  of  Females 

6  55.6  44.4                         ii. 2 

7  55-2  44-8                        10.4 

8  547  45-3                         94 
5  54-3  45-7                         8.6 

1  Compiled  from  ward  areas  given  in  City  Registrar's  Report,  1904,  p.  297,  and 
ward  population  in  1905  given  in  preliminary  pamphlet  of  State  Census  of  1905, 
Population  and  Legal  Voters,  pp.  9-11. 

3  Calculated  from  the  Report  of  the  Registry  Department,  Boston,  1901,  p.  ii. 


VITAL  STATISTICS  123 

TABLE  43  —  continued 

Ward  Males  Females  Excess  of  Males    Ezcess  of  Females 

2  53.1  46.9  6.2 
9                   5i-8                    48.2                          3.6 

13  50.9  49.1  1.8 

14  5°-6  49-4  1.2 
4  5°-2  49-8  -4 

3  5°-°  5°-°  -o  .o 

18  49.4  50.6  1.2 

i  49-i  5°-9  1-8 

25  48.8  51.2  2.4 

17  486  51.4  2.8 

23  48.4  51-6  3-2 

15  47-9  52-1  4-2 

16  47.6  52.4  4.8 

24  47.6  52.4  4.8 

19  47.4  526  5.2 
22                   47.4                    52.6  5.2 

10  45  7  54-3  8.6 

20  45-5  54-5  9-o 
12                  44.2                55.8                                              it.  6 

21  42.6  57.4  14.8 

11  41.0  59.0  18.0 

In  connection  with  this  table  attention  is  also  called  to  Chart  xiv, 
showing  the  geographical  distribution  of  the  preponderance  of  sex 
one  way  or  the  other. 

The  strongest  determinant  of  relative  percentages  of  the  sexes 
is  nationality.  A  glance  at  the  map  will  show  that  the  wards  which 
have  an  excess  of  males  (Wards  6,  7,  8,  5,  2,  9,  14,  13,  and  3)  form 
a  belt  across  the  city  from  north  to  south,  including  all  of 
Charlestown,  the  western  portion  of  East  Boston,  all  of  the  North 
and  West  Ends,  the  South  Cove  (Ward  7),  and  the  greater  part  of 
South  Boston.  These  wards  contain  the  great  foreign  population 
of  the  city.  On  the  other  hand,  as  shown  by  the  map,  and  the  table, 
the  wards  which  show  an  excess  of  females  are,  generally  speaking, 
and  with  the  exception  of  Ward  12,  the  residential  wards  of  the 
Back  Bay  and  the  outlying  portions  of  the  city. 

The  largest  percentage  excess  of  females  is  in  Ward  n,  the  Back 
Bay,  where  there  are  18  per  cent,  more  women  than  men.1  Next 
comes  Ward  21,  an  attractive  residence  district  contiguous  to 

1  In  Ward  n  the  excess  of  women  is  in  some  measure  due  to  the  large  number 
of  female  domestic  servants. 


124        THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

Franklin  Park.  Ward  12  comes  third,  with  an  excess  of  n.6  per 
cent.  Compare  this  with  the  excess  of  females  for  Boston  as  a  whole, 
1.7  per  cent.,  or  with  the  16.6  per  cent,  excess  in  Brookline,  which 
is  said  to  have  the  largest  excess  of  females  in  proportion  to  its  size 
of  any  city  or  town  in  the  United  States.  Ward  statistics,  it  is  evident, 
indicates  that  the  South  End  lodging-house  district,  including  not 
only  lodgers,  but  all  its  other  residents  as  well,  has  an  exceedingly 
high  excess  of  females. 

When,  on  the  other  hand,  we  examine  the  statistics  of  boarders 
and  lodgers  as  published  in  the  Census  of  Massachusetts  for  1895, 
we  find  the  relative  percentages  of  males  and  females  reversed.  In 
1895,  65.1  per  cent,  of  the  (then)  54,422  lodgers  and  boarders  in 
Boston  were  males  and  only  34.9  per  cent,  females.  In  round  num- 
bers the  males  comprised  two  thirds,  and  the  females  only  one  third 
of  the  total  number. 

These  two  sets  of  data,  high  percentage  of  females  in  the  typical 
lodging-house  ward  (Ward  12)  and  low  percentage  of  females  in 
the  boarders  and  lodgers  for  the  city  as  a  whole  in  1895,  must  be 
reconciled.  If  they  are  both  to  be  taken  without  change  or  inter- 
pretation, the  inevitable  conclusion  must  be  that  there  are  not  many 
lodgers  in  Ward  12,  and  this  we  know  to  be  absolutely  contrary  to 
fact.  A  number  of  circumstances  account  for  the  conflict  in  the 
evidence.  In  the  first  place  it  may  be  doubted  whether  all  the  female 
lodgers  would  get  enumerated  in  any  census.  Tucked  away  in  rear, 
side,  and  attic  rooms,  and  for  the  most  part  out  of  the  house  at  work 
at  day,  they  are  easily  overlooked.  Landladies  are  much  less  dis- 
posed to  give  information  about  their  women  than  about  their  men 
lodgers.  Secondly,  the  statistics  of  boarders  and  lodgers  in  the  state 
census  include  all  classes  of  lodgers,  whether  inmates  of  the  fur- 
nished-room house  or  of  the  ten-to-twenty  cents  a  night  dives  of  the 
West  and  North  Ends.  In  this  latter  class  of  lodgings  there  is  a  very 
heavy  preponderance  of  males,  the  class  being  composed  largely 
of  unmarried  foreign  laborers  and  of  vagrants.  Thirdly,  the  years  that 
have  elapsed  since  1895  have  been  sufficient  time  to  permit  of  a  great 
increase  in  the  number  of  women  living  in  lodging-houses.  The  state 
census  of  1905  will  probably  reveal  whether  such  an  increase  has 
taken  place.1  Certain  it  is  that  the  field  of  industry  has  been  every- 

1  At  the  moment  of  writing  these  returns  unfortunately  are  not  yet  available. 


VITAL  STATISTICS  125 

where  opening  to  women,  that  girls  as  well  as  boys  are  more  gener- 
ally leaving  their  homes  and  seeking  employment  in  the  shops  and 
factories  of  the  city,  —  that  the  tide  which  flows  from  the  quiet 
countryside  to  the  tumultuous  urban  centres,  pouring  its  flood  of 
unattached  men  and  women  into  the  rooming-houses,  brings  the 
sisters  as  well  as  the  brothers,  the  daughters  as  well  as  the  sons. 
Fourthly,  there  are  some  minor  elements  in  Ward  12  which  may 
tend  to  raise  the  percentage  of  women.  Nearly  all  the  lodging-house 
keepers  are  women,  and  it  may  be  that  the  apartment-houses  in  the 
ward  contain  more  women  than  men.  But  the  three  factors  first 
mentioned  are  enough  to  explain  the  discrepancy  in  the  statistics, 
and  to  show  that  the  figures  for  1895  are  of  no  value  to  us  in  this 
connection. 

Finally  our  third  source  of  information  —  personal  investigation 
—  corroborates  the  ward  statistics,  and  indicates  that  the  figures 
for  Ward  12  as  a  whole  give  probably  a  correct  idea  of  the  sex-dis- 
tribution of  the  lodging-house  population.  In  a  count  of  nearly  a 
hundred  houses  we  found  the  number  of  men  lodgers  and  of  women 
lodgers  substantially  the  same.  Add  the  landladies,  and  we  have 
a  heavy  excess  of  females. 

Sec.  IV.     Influence  of  the  lodging-house  on  the  age-grouping  of 

population 

With  the  exception  of  the  school  census  of  persons  of  school  age, 
no  statistics  of  population  by  age-groups  and  wards  are  published. 
We  have  therefore  endeavored  to  gain  a  few  crumbs  of  information 
from  the  Precinct  Lists  of  Male  Residents,  of  which  we  have  made 
use  in  other  connections  as  well.  The  following  table  is  constructed 
from  an  analysis  of  some  of  these  lists,  and  gives  the  age-grouping  of 
males  over  20  years  of  age  in  three  typical  lodging-house  precincts: 

TABLE  44.   MALE  ADULT  LODGERS  BY  AGE-GROUPS,  THREE  TYPICAL 

PRECINCTS 

Age-Groups:  20-24  25-29  3°~34    35~39  40-44    45~49    5°-54    55-59  60-64    65-69  70  and  over. 

Wd.  9,  Prec.  6.  116  180  163  107   87   72   65   27   28   16    17 

Wd.  10,  Prec.  3.  119  149   98   65   69   42   47   18   24   12     5 

Wd.  12,  Prec.  2.  100  163  124  105  101   57   60   36   32   19    23 

Totals     335  492  385  277  257  171  172   91   84   47    45 

Averages    112  164  128   92   86   57   57   30   28   16    15 


126       THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

So  far  as  we  can  judge  from  such  a  table,  which  is  imperfect 
because  of  the  lack  of  data  for  the  age-groups  below  twenty,  at  least 
8 1  per  cent,  of  the  male  lodgers  are  below  fifty  years  of  age,  63  per 
cent,  below  forty,  and  51  per  cent,  below  thirty-five.  Over  one 
third  are  between  the  ages  of  twenty  and  thirty.  The  considerable 
number  of  men  over  sixty  years  old,  and  even  of  seventy  and  over, 
should  be  noted.  The  lodgers  in  the  main  represent  what  should 
be  the  years  of  vigorous  young  manhood  and  womanhood ;  they  are 
the  active  rank  and  file  of  the  business  and  laboring  world.  The 
table,  it  must  be  remembered,  is  for  adult  males  only;  we  have  no 
statistics  for  women  lodgers. 

The  most  striking  fact  about  the  age-grouping  of  lodgers  is  the 
almost  total  absence  of  children.  Were  it  possible  to  isolate  statistics 
for  the  lodging-houses  alone,  free  from  the  influence  of  tenement- 
and  apartment-houses,  this  fact  could  be  brought  out  vividly. 
Even  with  the  crude  statistics  which  we  have,  the  small  number  of 
children  in  the  South  End  lodging-house  district,  roughly  coexten- 
sive with  Ward  12,  is  noticeable.  The  only  statistics  available  for 
this  matter  are  those  of  the  school  census.  The  following  table  gives 
the  number  of  children  of  school  age,  5  to  15  years,  by  wards,  and 
the  percentage  to  total  population  in  each  ward.  The  percentages, 
and  not  the  absolute  numbers,  are  of  importance. 

TABLE  45.    CHILDREN  OF  SCHOOL  AGE,  5  TO  15  YEARS,  BY  WARDS 

Estimated  popula-        Children  5  to  15  years  Percentage  of  the 

Ward  tion,  1902. l  of  age,  I9O2.2  total  ward  population.8 

19  28,494  5,765  20.2 

1  23,961  4,731  19.8 
6                   32,085                           6,105                                    19.0 

2  24,078  4,565  18.9 

13  23,961  4,372  18.3 
23           24,785                4,928  18.3 

14  22,489  4,067  18.1 
18                    23,490                            4,241  18.0 

22  26,904  4,831  l8.0 

8  30,260  5,408  17.5 

1  Annual  Report  of  the  Registry  Department,  Boston,  1902. 
1  Monthly  Bulletin,  City  Statistics  Department,  October,  1903,  Appendix,  Table 
II,  p.  270. 
*  Calculated. 


VITAL  STATISTICS  127 


Estimated  popula-       Children  5  to  15  years  Percentage  of  the 

Ward  tion,  1902.  of  age,  1902.  total  ward  population. 

16  21,017  3,670  17.4 
25  20,252  3,533  17.4 
24  28,494  4,928  17.3 

17  26,256  4,560  17.3 
15  20,664  3,505  169 

20  34,135  5,760  16.6 

4  13,893  2,240  1 6. 2 
3  I5,3o6  2,408  15.7 
9  25,786  3,786  14.7 

21  35,079  3,558  14.2 

5  13,481  1,481  10.9 
7        15,542           1,468  0.4 

11  20,252  1,700  8.4 

12  24t7^S  f>9SJ  7-8 
10                    23,254                            1,693  7-3 

As  in  so  many  of  our  tables  here  again  we  find  Wards  10,  n,  and 
12  in  close  company.  Ward  10,  consisting  chiefly  of  lodging-  and 
apartment-houses,  has  the  smallest  percentage  of  children,  while 
Ward  12,  lodging-houses,  has  practically  no  more.  Compare  its  7.8 
per  cent,  with  the  20.2  per  cent,  of  Ward  19. 

A  request  to  the  Boston  School  Committee  to  be  allowed  to  look 
over  the  registers  of  the  grammar  and  primary  schools  drawing 
children  from  Ward  12,  in  order  that  an  estimate  might  be  made 
of  the  number  of  children  coming  from  tenement-house  streets  and 
deducted  from  the  figures  given  above  for  Ward  12,  met  with  a  re- 
fusal. Had  the  estimate  been  possible  it  would  have  been  sufficient 
to  show  beyond  a  doubt  that  the  lodging-house  population  is  void 
of  that  life  and  brightness  which  only  "a  child  in  the  house"  can 
bring. 

Sec.  V.    Birth-  and  death-rates  in  the  lodging-house  district 

The  small  number  of  school  age  in  Ward  12  would  naturally  lead 
one  to  expect  a  low  birth-rate  there.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  we  find  that 
the  birth-rate  is  not  only  very  low,  but  that  it  is  the  lowest  of  any 
ward  in  the  city.  The  following  table  shows  the  unique  position 
held  by  Wards  10,  u,  and  12,  in  comparison  with  other  wards: 


128        THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 


TABLE  46.    BIRTH-RATES,  BY  WARDS,  FOR  1900-1904,  AND  AVER- 
AGE BIRTH-RATES  FOR  THE  FIVE  YEARS  1 


Average  for 

Ward 

1900 

1901 

1902 

1903 

1904 

the  five  years.1 

6 

45-37 

45-85 

46.9 

46.6 

45-9 

46.12 

13 

41.82 

37-n 

34-3 

34-9 

3I-1 

35-85 

8 

35-88 

34.06 

31.6 

3i-4 

32.2 

33-03 

19 

33-92 

33-n 

29.6 

29.4 

26.9 

30-39 

2 

32-93 

30.80 

27.4 

26.7 

27.6 

29.01 

I 

30-57 

27.40 

25.6 

27.3 

28.1 

27.79 

17 

31.91 

27-5i 

26.7 

27.2 

24-4 

27-54 

14 

29.08 

28.19 

26.4 

27.1 

23-9 

26.95 

18 

31.15 

27.21 

25-4 

25-7 

23.6 

26.61 

16 

29.42 

24-54 

27.4 

27-3 

24-3 

26.59 

3 

26.91 

25-30 

26.2 

25-9 

26.3 

26.12 

25 

27.12 

25.09 

27.8 

24.2 

24-5 

25-74 

4 

25-74 

26.60 

23-8 

23.8 

24.7 

24-93 

7 

29.36 

25-05 

.  25.8 

21.  1 

22.4 

24.72 

15 

28.47 

26.52 

22.3 

23-7 

22.5 

24.69 

20 

24.69 

23.10 

22.7 

23-7 

23.6 

23.56 

22 

26.74 

22.92 

23.6 

2I.O 

22.6 

2337 

9 

25-3° 

2459 

22.8 

22.O 

21.4 

23.19 

24 

23-51 

2434 

21-7 

21.2 

22-4 

22.63 

23 

23-77 

21.32 

21.7 

'     25.5 

19.0 

22.26 

5 

22.43 

22.19 

21-5 

20.8 

21.6 

21.70 

21 

19.10 

19.85 

19.7 

16.7 

17.2 

18.51 

II 

12.34 

12.70 

13-3 

14.2 

12.5 

13.01 

IO 

13.36 

I3-30 

"•3 

11.9 

12.9 

12.55 

12 

11.67 

77.70 

12.2 

if.  8 

77.07 

11.69 

Chart  xv  shows  graphically  the  birth-rates  by  wards. 

The  birth-rate  of  Ward  12,  11.69,  we  find  to  be  lower  than  that 
even  of  such  wards  as  10  and  n,  fashionable  residence  and  apart- 
ment-house districts,  where  according  to  modern  conditions  we  look 
for  the  lowest  birth-rate.  The  extremely  low  birth-rate  of  all  three 
of  these  wards  may  be  realized  by  comparison  with  the  average  rate 
for  the  whole  city,  which  for  the  five  years,  1900  to  1904  inclusive, 
was  27.03.  This  is  something  more  than  twice  as  high  as  the  rate  of 
the  three  wards  in  question.  It  is  a  far  cry,  of  course,  to  the  enormous 

1  Compiled  from  the  Annual  Report  of  the  Registry  Department,  Boston,  1904, 
Appendix  A,  pp.  245-293. 
1  Calculated. 


g    5     9     <?     5     <* 


! r         f 3 

s  a  s  A  <k 


^ 
O 

K 
v 


VITAL  STATISTICS  129 

birth-rate  of  over  46  to  the  thousand  in  the  North  End  (Ward  6), 
but  the  low  rate  of  the  Back  Bay  and  of  the  lodging-house  dis- 
trict of  the  South  End  can  be  brought  out  further  by  comparison 
with  the  suburban  wards,  which  are  naturally  occupied  chiefly  by 
private  residences.  Could  we  in  Ward  n  eliminate  the  influence 
of  the  foreign  population  of  the  West  End  portion  of  the  ward, 
we  should  have  a  much  lower  birth-rate  for  the  Back  Bay  than 
is  actually  shown  in  the  table.  Similarly  in  Ward  12  the  tene- 
ment-house streets  tend  to  raise  the  birth-rate  far  above  what  it 
would  be  for  the  lodging-houses  alone.  Even  as  they  stand,  how- 
ever, the  figures  are  eloquent  in  what  they  tell  of  the  influence  of 
the  lodging-house. 

As  to  the  causes  of  the  low  birth-rate  in  Ward  n  it  is  not  here 
our  province  to  speak.  For  Ward  10  and  Ward  12  little  doubt 
can  be  entertained  as  to  what  are  the  influences  active.  In  Ward 
10  both  apartment-  and  lodging-houses  tend  to  reduce  the  rate 
to  a  minimum.  In  Ward  12  the  influence  is  chiefly  that  of  the 
lodging-house.  The  peculiar  social  conditions  of  lodging-house 
life,  together  with  the  economic  condition  of  the  lodging-house 
population,  have  to  be  taken  into  account.  The  low  birth-rate  can- 
not be  due  to  the  old  age  of  the  population,  for  it  is  composed  of 
men  and  women  as  a  rule  in  the  prime  of  life;  nor  on  the  other 
hand  can  it  be  due  to  the  youthfulness  of  the  population,  for 
there  are  no  children  in  the  lodging-house;  nor  can  it  be  due  to 
the  scarcity  of  women  to  become  mothers,  for  the  ward  contains  a 
heavy  excess  of  females.  It  must  be  due,  therefore,  to  late  mar- 
riages, and  to  the  fact  that  when  lodgers  do  marry  they  leave 
the  district  in  a  short  time  and  take  up  their  homes  in  the  suburbs 
in  that  outer  limbo  of  cheap  frame  apartment-houses  or  tene- 
ments which  is  neither  city  nor  suburbs.1  We  return  to  this  sub- 
ject in  Chapter  xvm. 

1  The  extremely  low  birth-rate  in  the  densely  populated  lodging-house  districts, 
into  which  crowd  so  many  young  men  and  women  who  have  come  to  the  city  to 
earn  their  fortunes,  comes  in  curious  contrast  to  Newsholme's  statement  that  "A 
high  birth-rate  usually  occurs  in  crowded  districts,  there  being  in  these  a  much  higher 
proportion  of  people  at  child-bearing  age,  owing  to  the  in-rush  of  young  workers  in 
search  of  the  higher  town  wages."  —  Vital  Statistics,  p  97. 


130        THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 
For  death-rates  we  have  the  following  table: 

TABLE  47.    DEATH-RATES,  1900  TO  1904,  AND  AVERAGE  FOR  THE 
FIVE  YEARS,  BY  WARDS  l 

Average  for 
five  years  2 

24-39 
23-75 
20.16 

19.96 
19.32 

19.10 

18.43 
17.90 
17.79 

17-25 
16.93 

16.73 
16.49 
15.86 
'5-56 
15.48 

15-39 
15-36 
15-04 
14.80 

14.50 
14.05 
13.80 
13.70 
13-30 

The  death-rate  of  Ward  12,  it  will  be  noted,  is  a  little  below  the 
median;  fourteen  wards  have  a  higher  rate,  ten  a  lower.  The  death- 
rate,  as  well  as  the  birth-rate,  of  Ward  12  would  be  slightly  lower 
if  we  could  exclude  the  tenement-houses.  Otherwise  the  relatively 
dense  population  of  the  ward  seems  to  exert  little  influence  on  death- 
rates,  though  whatever  effect  it  may  have  cannot  be  traced  owing 
to  the  lack  of  statistics  of  population  by  age-groups.  But  the  higher 
death-rates  of  some  other  wards  are  due  to  the  less  economical 
arrangement  of  houses  on  building-sites,  worse  sanitary  appliances, 

1  Compiled  from  the  Report  of  the  Registry  Department  of  the  City  of  Boston. 
1904,  pp.  245-293. 
1  Calculated. 


/ard 

1900 

1901 

1902 

1903 

1904 

7 

25-43 

25.64 

25.99 

20.7 

24.2 

13 

25.26 

27.36 

24.58 

232 

18.4 

5 

23.67 

21.65 

22.47 

17.6 

15-4 

6 

23.86 

20.27 

19.57 

18.7 

17.4 

17 

23.40 

20.41 

18.20 

16.4 

18.2 

18 

23.70 

19.10 

18.20 

182 

16.3 

9 

22.57 

18.03 

18.45 

16.3 

16.8 

3 

19-43 

19.94 

1751 

16.3 

16-3 

4 

19.92 

19.46 

17.27 

17.1 

15-2 

14 

18.17 

1781 

16.27 

16.7 

17-3 

2 

18.34 

18.80 

16.90 

14.1 

16.5 

19 

18.61 

17.07 

17.26 

158 

14.9 

15 

18.17 

16.21 

18.48 

14.5 

iS-i 

16 

18.18 

15.40 

16.51 

15.5 

13-7 

12 

17-85 

16.91 

15-93 

13-9 

14.2 

I 

16.77 

14  62 

15.90 

15.6 

145 

23 

14.00 

23.77 

13-79 

13.1 

12.3 

21 

15.96 

16.87 

14.59 

13-7 

14.7 

II 

17-74 

15.02 

14-36 

14.7 

13-4 

20 

14-43 

15.84 

16.05 

13-7 

14.0 

8 

17.03 

16.59 

14.60 

13-1 

12.2 

22 

16.24 

14.81 

13.01 

12.5 

13.6 

24 

13-71 

13.44 

13.93 

14.2 

13-7 

IO 

14.85 

15.37 

13.28 

12.6 

12.4 

25 

12.24 

13.91 

13-77 

13.6 

13.0 

VITAL  STATISTICS  131 

insalubrious  ward  topography,  and  less  favorable  age  and  sex- 
grouping,  nationality,  and  employment.  There  is  no  reason  to  sup- 
pose that  the  lodging-house  should  exercise  any  very  appreciable 
direct  influence  on  death-rates.  Sanitary  conditions  are  not  bad 
enough  for  that,  nor  are  they  so  good  as  to  cut  down  the  rate. 
Probably,  all  in  all,  the  mere  physical  surroundings  of  the  lodger 
are  not  more  unhealthful  than  those  of  the  average  city-dweller. 
But  indirectly,  through  age-grouping  and  the  like,  the  lodging-house 
may  have  some  effect.  Other  things  being  equal  we  should  look 
for  one  of  the  lowest  death-rates  in  the  city  in  Ward  12,  since  the 
bulk  of  the  lodging-house  population  is  in  the  prime  of  life ;  with 
comparatively  few  births  there  are  of  necessity  comparatively  few 
infant  deaths.  But  there  are  enough  tenement  children  and  babies 
in  the  district,  and  enough  old  people  in  the  lodging-houses  to 
prevent  the  death-rate  from  falling  to  the  minimum.  The  lowest 
death-rates  naturally  occur  in  the  suburban  wards.  Ward  10,  how- 
ever, which  has  next  to  the  lowest  death-rate,  is  a  lodging-  and  apart- 
ment-house ward.  There  must  be  some  peculiar  constitution  of 
population,  of  dwellings,  or  of  topography  to  account  for  this. 
Probably  the  cause  is  to  be  found  in  the  general  absence  of  bad 
tenement-house  streets,  in  the  large  amount  of  open  land  in  the 
ward,  and  in  the  fact  that  it  contains  a  lodging-house  population 
in  the  years  of  life  when  death  comes  most  seldom,  and  an  apart- 
ment-house contingent  chiefly  of  young  and  middle-aged  people, 
with  small  families  and  few  births,  living  in  relatively  new  and 
modern  flats,  and  in  fairly  comfortable  circumstances. 

A  comparison  of  the  average  birth-  and  death-rates  of  Tables  46 
and  47  yields  some  further  light  on  the  position  of  the  lodging-house 
district  as  regards  population  and  social  vitality.  Table  48  arranges 
the  wards  in  order  of  difference  between  average  annual  birth-rate 
and  average  annual  death-rate,  to  the  great  disparagement  of  the 
apartment-house  Ward  10,  the  aristocratic  Back  Bay  Ward  u,  and 
the  lodging-house  Ward  12.  In  each  of  these  three  wards,  the  deaths 
are  in  excess  of  the  births.  In  none  of  them  therefore  is  the  ward 
population  self- perpetuating.  Ward  7  is  the  only  other  ward  in  the 
city  that  comes  near  this  state  of  affairs,  and  Ward  7  is  at  the  other 
end  of  the  social  scale  from  Ward  n.  In  Ward  7,  notwithstanding 
a  high  birth-rate,  the  high  infant  mortality,  the  crowded  conditions, 


132        THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

the  unhealthful  proximity  to  the  stagnant  waters  of  the  harbor  and 
South  Bay  raise  the  death-rate  to  a  point  almost  sufficient  to  keep 
the  population  stationary.  All  the  other  wards  show  an  excess  of 
births  over  deaths,  some  little,  others  much.  The  most  remarkable 
excess  is  that  of  Ward  8,  because  of  the  very  high  birth-rate  and 
very  low  death-rate,  two  things  which  do  not  usually  go  together. 
This  unique  condition  must  be  attributed  to  the  Jewish  population. 
In  considering  the  position  of  Ward  10,  n,  and  12,  it  is  well  to 
point  out  that  their  birth-rates  are  less  than  the  death-rate  of  any 
ward  in  the  city,  while,  with  the  exception  of  Ward  10,  their  death- 
rates  do  not  fall  in  the  lowest  group.  Chart  xvi  shows  graphically 
this  unfavorable  relation  between  births  and  deaths.1  These  three 
wards  stretch  across  the  city  in  a  broad  belt  from  the  Charles  River 
almost  to  the  South  Bay,  and  represent  that  part  of  Boston's  popula- 
tion which  is  committing  "race-suicide"  at  no  uncertain  rate.2  It 
is  a  phenomenon  that  deserves  more  thorough  and  more  scientific 
study  than  it  has  yet  received. 

TABLE  48.   BIRTH-RATES  AND  DEATH-RATES  COMPARED,  BY  WARDS 

Excess  of  death- 
rate  over  birth- 
rate 


Excess  of  birth- 

rate over  death- 

Ward 

Birth-rate 

Death-rate 

rate 

6 

46.12 

19.96 

26.16 

8 

33-03 

14.50 

18.53 

19 

30-39 

16-73 

13.66 

25 

25-74 

I3-30 

12.44 

i 

27-79 

15.48 

12.31 

13 

35-85 

23-75 

12.10 

2 

29.01 

16.93 

12.08 

16 

26.59 

15.86 

10-73 

14 

26.95 

I7-25 

9.70 

22 

23-37 

14.05 

9-32 

24 

22.63 

13.80 

8.83 

20 

23-56 

14.80 

8.76 

3 

26.12 

17.90 

8.22 

15 

24.69 

16.49 

8.20 

1  The  chart  is  based  on  the  figures  for  1901 ,  but  would  not  be  materially  altered  were 
it  changed  to  suit  the  averages  for  1900-1904. 

1  Should  the  changes  in  the  building  laws  above  alluded  to  (Chapter  x)  be  made, 
and  any  considerable  number  of  lodging-houses  be  remodelled  into  tenement-  or  low- 
priced  apartment-houses,  we  should  look  for  an  increase  in  birth-rate,  since  married 
couples  would  take  the  place  of  single  men  and  women. 


VITAL  STATISTICS  133 

TABLE  48  —  continued. 


Excess  of  birth- 

Excess of  death- 

rate  over  death- 

rate  over  birth- 

Ward 

Birth-rate 

Death-rate 

rate 

rate 

18 

26.61 

19.10 

7-51 

23 

22.26 

15-39 

7-37 

4 

24-93 

17.79 

7-24 

17 

27-54 

19.32 

6.22 

9 

23.19 

18.43 

4.76 

21 

18.51 

I5-36 

3-15 

5 

21.70 

20.16 

1-54 

7 

24.72 

24-39 

•33 

10 

"55 

I3-70 

I-I5 

ii 

13.01 

15.04 

2.03 

12 

11.69 

15.48 

3-79 

CHAPTER   XV 

CRIME  AND  PROSTITUTION 

THE  lodging-house  has  shown  itself  to  exert  a  not  unimportant 
influence  upon  the  vital  statistics  of  the  city;  it  has  disclosed  to  us 
new  forms,  or  at  least  new  conditions  of  poverty  and  dependence; 
and  now  we  have  to  note  that  it  presents  certain  still  darker  aspects 
of  which  it  is  our  duty  to  speak  in  this  chapter  and  the  next.  An 
assiduous  and  discriminating  reader  of  the  daily  newspaper  must 
be  struck  with  the  frequency  with  which  the  lodging-house  appears 
in  one  role  or  another  —  generally  an  unenviable  one  —  within  its 
columns.  The  exact  amount  of  crime  connected  with,  or  centring 
in  a  lodging-house  district  is  problematic,  but  it  is  not  small,  and 
there  is  no  room  whatever  to  doubt  its  existence.  Gambling,  theft, 
counterfeiting,  suicide,  and  murder,  all  come  to  light  as  occasional 
or  frequent  manifestations  of  the  underworld  of  lodging-house  life. 
The  writer  regrets  that  he  has  not  kept  a  systematic  record  of  the 
crimes  connected  with  the  rooming-house,  so  far  as  it  has  come 
under  his  observation.  Such  task  must  be  left  to  those  who  follow 
out  the  more  detailed  investigation  of  the  subject.  Such  accounts 
as  came  to  notice  without  special  search  in  Boston  newspapers 
were  saved,  however,  for  the  winter  and  spring  of  1903-04;  and 
some  continuous  acquaintance  with  the  papers  of  four  other  large 
cities  of  the  country,  New  York,  Chicago,  St.  Louis,  and  Cleveland 
convinces  us  that  the  conditions  in  Boston  are  duplicated  elsewhere, 
no  doubt  in  every  large  city  in  the  country. 

In  Boston,  the  rooming-house  is  dragged  into  the  papers  most 
often,  perhaps,  by  the  suicide  of  a  lodger.  At  least  eight  instances 
came  to  notice  in  approximately  eight  months.  There  were  doubt- 
less others  as  well ;  and  there  have  been  many  since.  That  the  lodg- 
ing-house should  be  the  scene  of  many  such  tragedies  is  natural. 
The  friendless,  the  unemployed  middle  class  men  and  girls  in 
trouble  and  far  from  home  drift  to  the  rooming-house,  sometimes 
of  a  better,  sometimes  of  a  worse  type.  The  house  itself  is  not  in- 


CRIME  AND  PROSTITUTION  135 

frequently  the  scene  of  the  deed.  More  often,  perhaps,  we  read  that 
such  and  such  a  lodger  has  ended  his  troubles  by  jumping  into  the 
Charles  River,  or  elsewhere  away  from  home  by  some  other  means. 

The  causes  of  the  suicides  are  various,  and  they  not  infrequently 
throw  a  sidelight  upon  the  inner  life  of  the  lodging-house  district. 
Suicide  of  seduced  girls  is  common;  despondency  due  to  financial 
troubles  or  to  inability  to  get  work,  and  jealousies  and  intrigues 
over  illicit  love-affairs  are  also  important  causes.  Sometimes  the 
notice  of  the  suicide  is  laconically  brief,  stating  only  the  fact  and 

the  means:  "Mary committed  suicide  this  morning  at St. 

last  night  by  taking  hydrate  of  chloral." 

During  the  winter  of  1903-4,  there  were  at  least  two  murders  and 
a  double  shooting  in  South  End  lodging-houses,  all  directly  due  to 
some  form  of  jealousy.  In  one  case  a  jealous  man  shot  the  woman 
who  was  living  with  him  as  his  wife,  and  a  man  whom  he  had  found 
with  her.  This  was  in  a  quiet  and  "eminently  respectable"  lodging- 
house  on  a  reputable  street.  Scarcely  a  month  after  this  case  occurred 
another  of  similar  nature  on  Washington  Street,  where  a  young 
man  shot  and  killed  a  waitress  who  had  been  living  with  him  as 
his  wife  but  who  refused  to  continue  the  relation.  A  month  later  the 
papers  were  reporting  another  tragedy:  "Murder  was  done  at  the 

South  End  this  noon,  when shot  and  killed , 

whom  he  found  in  company  with  his  wife.  The  crime  was  com- 
mitted in  Mrs. 's  room  on  the  fourth  floor  of  the  lodging-house 

at St."  These  cases  are  of  not  so  much  significance  in  them- 
selves as  of  what  lies  beyond,  and,  never  reaching  a  climax,  murder 
or  suicide,  does  not  come  to  light. 

Crime  of  a  less  serious  nature  helps  still  further  to  darken  the 
pages  of  the  lodging-house  record.  When  a  daring  shoplifter  is 
wanted,  or  stolen  goods  are  sought  for,  they  are  generally  found 
in  some  lodging-house.  Nearly  a  dozen  cases  of  this  kind,  in  the 
South  End  alone,  came  to  our  notice  during  the  winter.  A  man 
and  woman  were  locked  up  for  stealing  laundry,  a  shoplifter  living 
in  a  South  End  rooming-house  and  selling  her  stolen  goods  in  South 
End  pawn-shops  was  arrested,  and  three  men  and  a  woman  were 
apprehended  for  having  stolen  goods  in  their  room.  A  doctor  in 
a  South  End  lodging-house  was  arrested  for  obtaining  money  from 
unsuspecting  women  under  cover  of  "a  good  investment." 


136       THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

The  following  newspaper  notice  shows  a  kind  of  thief  typical  of 
the  lodging-house:  "A.  B.  alias  X.  Y.,  of  Quincy,  was  arrested  last 
evening  charged  with  being  a  lodging-house  thief.  He  has  a  criminal 

record.  He  hired  a  room  at St.  and  robbed  the  rooms  of  other 

lodgers  when  they  were  out."  The  lodging-house  thief  is  a  distinct 
class  of  criminal,  just  as  is  the  shoplifter  or  the  pickpocket.  His 
method  as  exemplified  above  is  to  hire  a  room  in  a  lodging-house  for 
a  short  time,  and  to  seize  the  opportunity  thus  afforded  to  appropri- 
ate everything  he  can  lay  hands  on.  He  takes  jewelry  and  other 
personal  property  of  the  lodgers,  or  this  failing,  fills  his  suit-cases 
with  rugs  and  bed-clothing.  He  corresponds  in  the  lodging-house 
district  to  the  "servant-girl  thief"  in  the  private  residence  districts. 

Another  sort  of  thievery  is  the  "jumping"  of  room- rent  bills. 
This,  however,  does  not  appear  to  be  a  common  evil.  Few  such  cases 
are  reported  to  the  police,  and  most  landladies  say  they  have  little 
trouble  on  this  score  —  probably  because  experience  has  rendered 
them  doubly  vigilant.  The  universal  rule  is  that  rents  shall  be  paid 
in  advance  at  least  one  week,  and  the  unscrupulous  roomer  thus  has 
little  chance  to  cheat  the  landlady.  Sometimes  cases  of  clever 
swindling  occur.  One  girl,  for  instance,  made  a  practice  of  getting 
in  arrears  with  her  rent  and  leaving  a  cheap,  and  empty,  trunk 
for  the  consolation  of  the  landlady. 

Another  evil  not  uncommon  in  the  lodging-house  district  is 
gambling.  Whether  the  houses  in  which  gambling,  through  police 
raids  and  otherwise,  comes  to  light  are  as  a  rule  lodging-houses  we 
are  unable  to  state,  but  it  is  certain  that  gambling-houses  and 
gambling- rooms  exist  within  the  confines  of  the  lodging-house 
district,  and  even  on  what  are  considered  the  best  streets.1  Persons 
who  content  themselves  with  the  idea  that  no  gambling  goes  on  in 
the  South  End  are  cherishing  a  delusion.  Even  outward  indications 
point  plainly  to  the  contrary.  Just  to  what  extent  the  lodging-house 

1  Of  a  raid  in  the  best  section  of  the  South  End  we  read :  "  Fifteen  men  were  charged 
with  being  present  where  gambling  implements  were  found,  and  one  was  alleged 
to  have  been  the  watchman.  Eight  packs  of  cards,  325  chips,  a  gaming  table,  etc., 
were  seized."  And  again:  "About  six  P.  M.  officers  of  Station  5  raided  a  room  at 

Ave.  and  seized  two  packs  of  cards,  190  chips,  and  gaming  implements.    Five 

men  were  arrested."  In  a  raid  on  Shawmut  Avenue  during  the  winter  one  man  lost 
his  life  by  falling  from  the  roof  whither  he  had  gone  to  escape  the  police  who  were 
raiding  a  gambling-room. 


CRIME  AND  PROSTITUTION  137 

population  as  such  is  a  participant  in  these  operations  it  is  not 
possible  to  say,  but  the  important  fact  is  that  the  evil  forms  part 
of  the  general  and  constant  environment  of  the  lodger,  and  that  the 
unwary,  or  the  naturally  free-and-easy  youth  may  at  any  time  fall 
into  its  ways. 

We  saw  in  Chapter  iv  that  a  number  of  liquor-stores  are  situated 
in  the  district,  and  that,  while  there  are  practically  no  saloons  within 
the  district  proper,  many  are  situated  on  the  borders,  between  the 
lodging-house  district  and  the  tenement-house  regions  beyond.1 
Nevertheless  drunkenness  is  not  a  typical  lodging-house  evil  in 
this  country  as  it  is  abroad.2  In  the  cheaper  houses  which  furnish 
"shelter  to  the  wholly  irresponsible,  if  not  criminal  element,"  in 
which  "visitors  arrive  and  depart  any  hour  of  the  day  or  night," 
and  "men  and  women  lodgers  pass  in  and  out  of  each  others'  rooms 
indifferently,"  drunkenness  and  other  evils  of  course  go  hand  in 
hand.3  Regions  of  such  houses  abound  on  Washington  Street 
about  Dover  Street,  and  on  the  cross-streets  to  the  eastward,  on 
lower  Tremont  Street,  lower  Shawmut  Avenue,  on  Harrison  Avenue 
between  Castle  and  Beach  Streets,  and  in  the  West  End.  But  the 
police  report  that  an  arrest  for  drunkenness  in  the  better  class  of 
lodging-house  is  comparatively  rare.  The  writer  can  testify,  how- 
ever, that  in  one  week  in  the  winter  of  1902-3  there  were  in  the 
block  where  he  was  then  living  —  one  of  the  best  streets  in  the 
South  End  —  three  disturbances  calling  for  police  intervention: 
a  drunken  cook  in  a  basement  dining-room,  a  drunken  man  beating 
his  wife,  and  a  midnight  disturbance  the  exact  character  of  which 
never  came  to  light. 

The  lodging-house  district  is  a  sort  of  sink  into  which  are  drained 
all  the  homeless  vagabonds  who  live  by  their  wits  and  by  preying 
upon  other  people.  All  sorts  of  criminals  naturally  drift  thither 
because  they  have  no  other  haven  of  refuge,  and  in  many  cases  no 
doubt  because  they  find  their  victims  in  the  lodging-house  popula- 

1  The  saloons  on  West  Dedham  and  West  Canton  streets  are  essentially  outside 
the  district,  because  they  draw  their  patronage  from  the  tenement-house  population 
of  those  streets  and  the  obscure  back  streets  near  at  hand. 

2  Cf.  Georges  Picot,  "  L'habitation  ouvriere  a  Paris  —  Le  logement  en  garni." 
Academic  des  Sciences  Morales  et  Politiques,  n.  s.,  vol.  53,  p.  673. 

3  Cf.  The  City  Wilderness,  p.  167. 


138        THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

tion  itself.  Perhaps  the  chief  reason,  however,  why  lodging-houses 
—  and  these  not  the  cheap  transient  houses  merely,  but  well- 
equipped  furnished- room  houses  in  respectable  districts  —  are  so 
frequented  by  the  criminal  class  is  that  here  they  can  most  easily 
evade  the  police,  by  frequent  change  of  address.  An  interesting 
fact  in  this  connection  is  that  in  the  lodging-house  district  bordering 
on  a  certain  short  street  in  the  South  End  the  postman  has  between 
4000  and  5000  letters  a  year  which  he  cannot  deliver  owing  to  the 
way  in  which  people  move  about,  and  often  because  landladies 
do  not  know  the  names  of  their  lodgers.  It  is  the  evidence  of  the 
police  that  most  of  the  criminals  of  the  city  live  in  lodging-houses, 
not  of  the  South  End  exclusively,  but  more  especially  of  the  West 
End. 

Nor  is  it  too  much  to  say  that  the  lodging-house  makes  criminals. 
When  a  young  man  and  a  young  woman  are  thrown  together  in 
illicit  relations  by  the  very  force  and  circumstances  of  lodging-house 
environment,  and  through  the  chain  of  events  thus  started,  the  girl 
becomes  a  suicide  or  the  boy  a  murderer,  the  lodging-house  must 
be  held  responsible  for  social  dissolution.  The  connection  between 
prostitution  and  crime  is  well  recognized.  Even  a  priori  one  would 
suppose  that  the  free-and-easy  relations  of  rooming-house  life,  and 
the  promiscuousness  with  which  persons  of  each  sex,  and  of  all 
occupations,  education,  and  antecedents,  are  thrown  together  would 
lead  often  to  criminal  associations  and  then  to  criminal  acts.  We 
have  inductive  evidence  that  such  is  the  case.  Such,  also,  is  the 
testimony  of  all  who  have  had  any  experience  with  lodging-house 
life.  A  careful  search  of  police  records,  were  it  permitted,  or  even 
of  newspaper  files,  would  more  than  substantiate  the  conclusion  to 
which  we  are  forced. 

An  interesting  sidelight  is  thrown  on  the  breadth  of  view  of 
public  officials,  when  in  the  face  of  conditions  such  as  these  the 
probation  officer  of  a  city  as  large  as  Boston  states  that  he  traces 
absolutely  no  connection  between  lodging-houses  and  crime.  The 
backwardness  of  criminal  statistics  in  American  cities  is  illustrated 
by  the  fact  that,  in  Boston  at  least,  no  record  of  crime  is  kept  by 
wards  or  precincts,  or  by  the  type  of  district  and  of  houses  in  which 
crimes  occur.  While  the  police  go  on  struggling,  with  fluctuating 
zeal,  to  suppress  criminal  tendencies,  at  least  one  source  of  crime 


CRIME  AND  PROSTITUTION  139 

is  left  unattacked.  It  is  time  the  conditions  were  acknowledged  and 
given  detailed  technical  study  by  those  whose  business  it  is  to  see 
that  not  only  ready-made  criminals  are  apprehended,  but  that  new 
criminals  shall  not  be  produced  needlessly  because  of  our  failure 
to  attack  the  sources  of  crime,  wherever  discovered. 

The  most  anomalous  aspect  of  crime  in  the  lodging-house  is  its 
close  juxtaposition  to  virtue.  The  good  and  evil  sleep  in  adjoining 
rooms  and  sit  vis-a-vis  at  the  cafe"  table.  Unsuspecting  youth  is 
thrown  in  contact  with  the  hardened  conscience  whose  sensibilities 
reach  only  to  things  gross  and  material;  young  men  and  women 
learn  lessons  in  life  from  roue*  and  prostitute,  which  tend  sooner  or 
later  to  break  down  their  moral  standards  and  to  lower  the  moral 
plane  of  their  action.  Whether  many  young  men  and  women  are 
thrown  directly  with  hardened  criminals  in  the  lodging-house  is  not 
the  question,  at  least  not  the  whole  question.  The  fact  is  that  they 
live  next  door  to  fearful  possibilities,  which  often  develop  into 
actualities ;  and  what  is  of  equal  import,  they  become  familiar  with 
prostitution,  accustomed  to  its  constant  presence  in  all  its  varied 
aspects. 

To  this  subject  we  now  turn.  No  attempt  to  picture  the  lodging- 
house  world  would  be  even  approximately  accurate  without  some 
reference  to  this  evil.  In  general  it  may  be  said  that  not  only  with 
regard  to  the  extent  of  its  presence  in  lodging-house  districts,  but  with 
regard  to  its  prevalence  in  other  and  unsuspected  parts  of  the  city 
the  general  thinking  public  knows  altogether  too  little.  It  is  to  be 
hoped  that  some  way  will  be  found  in  the  near  future  to  afford 
ample  funds  and  two  or  three  expert  investigators  for  the  problem 
of  prostitution  as  it  presents  itself  in  Boston.  What  is  to  be  said 
here  is  only  by  way  of  suggestion  as  to  what  a  careful  and  detailed 
special  investigation  would  certainly  reveal  in  the  lodging-house 
district. 

It  seems  safe  to  say  that  there  are  few  lodging-houses  which 
may  not  at  some  time  come  under  moral  suspicion.  We  have  already 
noted  that  landladies  fall  broadly  into  two  classes  —  those  who 
care  and  those  who  do  not  care.  Constant  vigilance  on  the  part 
of  the  landlady,  who  must  always  be  setting  herself  against  the 
tendencies  of  rooming-house  custom  and  public  feeling,  is  necessary 
to  the  maintenance  of  a  house  of  irreproachable  respectability.  The 


140       THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

economic  struggle  she  must  make  —  the  necessity  of  renting  as 
many  rooms  as  possible  —  results  in  a  gradual  and  perhaps  uncon- 
scious relaxation  of  her  moral  standards,  at  least  in  so  far  as  they 
are  applied  in  practice.  Before  she  knows  it  she  has  dropped  into 
the  easy-going  habit  of  not  knowing  too  much  about  her  lodgers, 
and  various  evils  have  crept  into  her  house,  of  which  moral  laxness 
and  downright  prostitution  may  be  the  least. 

Prostitution  appears  under  many  different  guises,  nearly  all  of 
which  can  be  found  in  the  lodging-house  district.  First  there  are 
a  considerable  number  of  regular  houses  of  prostitution.  The  writer 
was  furnished  a  list  of  fifteen  by  the  New  England  Watch  and  Ward 
Society,  and  this  by  no  means  covers  the  known  number  of  such 
houses  in  the  district.  Oftentimes  the  police  and  every  one  else 
living  near  know  these  houses  for  what  they  are,  but  it  is  extremely 
difficult  to  get  evidence  that  will  satisfy  the  punctiliousness  of  the 
courts  and  secure  conviction.  The  best  of  the  houses  are  ostensibly 
elegant  and  very  quiet  private  residences.  They  are  always  abso- 
lutely, almost  deathly,  quiet  during  the  day,  and  even  at  night  they 
are  careful  not  to  invite  police  surveillance  by  noise  or  by  lighted 
windows.  Although  there  is  some  slight  tendency  toward  a  grouping 
of  disreputable  houses  in  fixed  centres,  regular  houses  of  ill-fame 
can  be  found  on  some  of  the  best  lodging-house  streets. 

A  second  and  much  more  frequent  type  of  disreputable  house  is 
conducted  under  the  guise  of  a  lodging-house.  It  is  very  likely  to 
display  a  conspicuous  room-sign,  and  to  have  its  street  number 
posted  in  large  characters  in  the  door  or  window.  It  will  take 
a  few  lodgers,  as  a  blind,  preferably  of  course  men  and  transients, 
but  it  is  primarily  a  house  of  prostitution  and  conducted  by  the 
mistress  for  that  purpose.  A  variant  of  this  type  is  that  in  which 
the  landlady  is  not  directly  engaged  in  the  traffic,  but  where,  with 
her  knowledge,  live  women  of  loose  character  who  bring  men  to 
their  rooms  whenever  they  please.  Rents  in  such  houses  are  high. 
An  especially  interesting  bit  of  evidence  as  to  the  possibilities  of 
such  houses  came  to  the  writer's  notice.  A  prominent  minister  of 
the  South  End,  who  recently  moved  in  from  the  suburbs,  found 
himself  together  with  his  wife  and  a  young  girl  intrusted  to  their 
care,  in  a  house  of  this  type.  They  had  been  there  a  month  or  two 
before  they  discovered  it.  The  landlady  had  made  all  proper  pre- 


CRIME  AND  PROSTITUTION  141 

tensions  of  conducting  a  first-class  rooming-house  in  every  way 
above  reproach. 

A  still  more  common  type  of  lodging-house  (for  we  pass  insensibly 
from  out-and-out  houses  of  prostitution  to  lodging-houses)  is  that 
in  which  with  the  landlady's  tacit  consent  men  lodgers  may  take 
women  to  their  rooms.  This  is  commonly  known  as  a  house  "  with 
privileges."  1 

In  all  these  houses  the  landlady  knows  of  the  irregular  practices. 
She  knows  that  if  she  allows  them  under  her  roof  she  can  reap  a 
much  higher  price  for  her  rooms.  Outwardly  such  houses  do  not 
differ  from  the  reputable  lodging-house,  and  one  might  live  in  them 
for  some  little  time  before  discovering  their  real  character.  The 
point  to  be  noted  is  that  an  inexperienced  young  girl  or  young  man 
coming  to  the  city  to  live  for  the  first  time  is  about  as  likely  to  land 
in  one  of  the  disreputable  houses  as  in  a  safe  place.  Few  lodging- 
house  keepers  require  references  from  prospective  lodgers.  Many 
houses  will  take  any  lodgers  that  may  come  at  any  hour  of  the  night 
or  day.  Such  houses  constitute  themselves  rivals  of  the  hotel,  for  the 
accommodation  of  those  transient  couples  who  ostensibly  as  man 
and  wife  always  "have  just  arrived  in  the  city  and  want  lodgings 
for  the  night." 

Prostitution  may  also  go  on  within  a  house  without  the  landlady's 
knowledge.  Nearly  every  lodging-house  keeper  says  she  keeps  a 
sharp  watch  over  her  lodgers,  and  that  she  keeps  "only  nice  people." 
If  she  is  not  deceived  in  the  second  idea  she  certainly  is  in  the  first. 
Living  in  the  basement,  or  even  in  the  front  parlor  on  the  first  floor, 
it  is  impossible  for  her  to  know  much  of  what  goes  on  on  the  floors 
above.  The  proximity  of  the  rooms  of  men  and  women,  the  fact 
that  they  have,  under  lodging-house  etiquette,  perfect  right  to  visit 
one  another's  rooms,  and  the  quietness  with  which  people  can 
come  in  and  out,  render  immoral  practices  not  only  easy,  but  almost 

1  Cf.  The  City  Wilderness,  pp.  167-8.  Very  much  the  same  conditions  are  recorded 
for  Parisian  lodging-houses.  "Le  locataire  en  garni  est  done  guette"  par  1'alcoolisme 
et  ses  perils  croissants.  Ce  n'est  pas  le  seul  danger.  A  part  un  petit  nombre  de 
logeurs,  les  maftres  de  ces  hdtels  ne  resistent  pas  a  un  genre  de  gain  tout  special. 
Sous  le  nom  de  chambre  reserve1  aux  voyageurs,  il  y  a  au  premiere  e"tage  une  piece 
mieux  meublee,  dont  le  tariff  est  arbitraire  et  le  usage  tres  suspect."  —  Georges  Picot, 
in  Seances  et  Travaux  de  I' Academic  des  Sciences  Morales  et  Politiques,  n.  s.,  vol.  53, 
pp.  673-674. 


142        THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

a  matter  of  certainty,  and  this  despite  the  isolation  of  the  individual 
in  social  matters,  and  the  rapidity  with  which  the  constituency  of 
a  house  changes.  The  absence  of  a  public  parlor  and  the  conse- 
quent custom  of  taking  callers  to  rooms  have  also  a  tendency  to  create 
situations  the  evil  possibilities  of  which  can  scarcely  be  overesti- 
mated. All  this  helps  to  give  to  any  but  the  very  best  houses  an 
atmosphere  of  moral  laxity  within  which  the  lodger  comes  inevitably 
sooner  or  later  to  tolerate  thoughts,  associations,  and  actions  which 
in  other  surroundings  he  would  not  brook  an  instant. 

Not  the  least  regrettable  or  the  least  dangerous  phase  of  immor- 
ality in  the  lodging-house  is  the  large  number  of  informal  and 
temporary  unions  there  to  be  found  going  under  the  outward  sem- 
blance of  marriage.  In  the  last  chapter  we  saw  instances  of  crime 
resulting  from  such  illicit  combinations.  Their  number  it  is  of 
course  impossible  to  ascertain,  but  the  testimony  of  persons  ac- 
quainted with  lodging-house  life  indicates  that  a  revelation  of  the 
actual  number  of  such  combinations  existing  at  any  one  time  would 
cause  virtuous  society  some  consternation.  These  unions  come 
about  in  various  ways,  from  chance  meetings  in  the  lodging-house, 
on  the  street,  or  in  the  cafe's.  The  isolation  of  the  young  life  from 
companionship  and  friends  renders  the  potentialities  of  such 
acquaintanceships  very  great.  A  man  and  a  girl  meet,  perhaps  at 
a  cafe"  table;  they  meet  again,  by  chance  perhaps,  and  then  by 
tacit  consent  or  appointment.  At  first  the  girl  pays  her  own  way; 
then  some  day  she  allows  the  man  to  pay  for  her  dinner  or  to  take 
her  to  the  theatre.  Thus  matters  progress  until,  with  a  consistent 
masculine  sense  of  compensatory  justice,  he  comes  unconsciously 
to  think  he  has  some  claims  upon  her,  and  she,  bowing  to  tradi- 
tional ways  of  thinking,  also  comes  to  something  of  the  same  feeling. 
The  final  result  of  it  all  is  that  they  strike  up  a  temporary  alliance 
for  the  sake  of  companionship  and  the  saving  of  expense.  In  many 
cases  both  parties  are  actuated  by  genuine  and  lasting  regard,  and 
the  union,  albeit  illegal,  may  be  happy.  In  such  cases  marriage  is 
nearly  always  looked  forward  to  as  soon  as  the  couple  feel  that  they 
can  surely  afford  it.  In  other  cases  the  motive  of  the  girl  is  simply  to 
find  support,  and  that  of  the  man  gratification.  Economic  reasons 
play  an  important  part  in  the  formations  of  such  unions.  Employers 
are  not  lacking  who  pay  low  wages,  with  the  expectation  that  their 


CRIME  AND  PROSTITUTION  143 

female  employee  will  have  some  "gentleman  friend"  to  help  her. 
That  temporary  unions  are  formed  for  the  winter  months,  and  re- 
formed with  varying  combinations  the  following  autumn,  cannot 
be  doubted.  Perhaps  as  often  the  union  runs  on  from  year  to  year, 
because  the  parties  desire  to  live  together  permanently,  or  because 
from  sheer  inertia  they  are  unable  to  separate.  A  prominent  minister 
of  a  large  South  End  church  states  that  he  is  not  infrequently  called 
upon  by  parents  to  interfere  with  a  son  or  daughter  who  is  living 
in  this  way.  His  course  is  always,  if  possible,  tactfully  to  get  the 
consent  of  the  couple  to  a  legal  marriage  and  to  go  with  the  man 
himself  for  the  license  if  need  be,  in  the  hopes  of  seeing  the  couple 
started  on  the  way  to  a  home  of  their  own,  outside  the  lodging-house 
district. 

There  is  no  doubt  whatever  that  the  temporary  union  is  one 
avenue  through  which  the  prostitute  class,  both  of  men  and  of 
women,  is  recruited.  After  a  girl  has  lived  with  a  man  and  has  been 
"thrown  over"  by  him,  it  is  much  easier  for  her  to  cast  aside  her 
pride  and  self-respect  and  go  to  living  with  other  men,  —  whence 
the  way  to  the  life  of  the  avowed  prostitute  is  straight  and  open. 
And  after  a  man  has  thus  treated  one  girl,  it  is  easy  for  him  to  con- 
tinue to  prostitute  himself  and  leave  a  trail  of  ruined  lives  behind 
him.  A  writer  on  Parisian  lodging-houses,  already  quoted  in  these 
pages,  states  that  ninety- nine  per  cent,  of  the  women  prostitutes  of 
Paris  are  recruited  from  the  lodging-house  class.1 

The  prevalence  of  immorality  among  males  is  a  less  uncertain 
quantity  than  is  the  extent  of  prostitution  among  women  lodgers. 
The  evidence  of  a  number  of  reliable  physicians  of  the  South  End 
is  that  sexual  immorality  and  venereal  disease  are  very  common 
among  male  lodgers.  In  fact,  one  is  left  to  believe  that  few  young 
men  in  the  lodging-house  district  escape  contamination  at  some 
time  in  their  lives.  At  the  same  time  the  physicians  are  almost  with- 
out exception  unwilling  to  say  that  these  evils  are  more  prevalent 
among  lodgers  than  among  other  classes.  Drug-store  clerks,  how- 
ever, who  were  in  the  South  End  before  it  became  a  lodging-house 
section,  say  that  their  trade  has  become  of  a  much  less  agreeable 
character  since  the  change  took  place. 

1  "  Sur  cent  filles  qui  tombent  dans  la  prostitution,  il  y  en  a  quatre-vingt-quinze 
qui  le  doivent  au  logement."  — Georges  Picot,  op.  cit.,  p.  681.  He  makes  this  state- 
ment on  the  authority  of  a  police  official. 


144       THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

The  great  number  of  "medical  specialists"  in  the  South  End, 
whose  carefully  worded  but  transparent  advertisements  fill  one  or 
two  of  Boston's  less  reputable  newspapers,  is  an  indication  of  an 
evil  growing  directly  out  of  the  temporary  unions  to  which  we  have 
alluded,  the  great  number  of  mistresses  or  "kept  women"  in  certain 
apartment-house  sections,  and  the  disinclination  seemingly  of  all 
classes  save  the  tenement-dwellers  to  have  children.  The  doctors 
have  much  evidence  on  this  and  kindred  topics,  all  of  which  bears 
more  or  less  directly  on  the  general  lodging-house  problem,  but 
into  which  we  cannot  enter  here.  It  belongs  to  the  special  investiga- 
tion which  we  hope  some  one  will  make.  At  any  rate  the  people  of 
Boston  have  not  been  without  occasion  of  late  to  ask  themselves 
how  prevalent  the  evil  is. 

Another  question  to  be  considered  when  the  connection  between 
the  lodging-house  and  prostitution  shall  have  been  investigated 
thoroughly  is  that  of  the  public  attitude  toward  houses  of  prostitu- 
tion. Shall  they  be  permitted,  or  compelled,  to  centralize  in  some 
one  locality  and  be  kept  as  strictly  as  possible  within  its  limits;  or 
shall  the  police  attack  them  wherever  found  and  scatter  them  as 
much  as  possible  ?  Different  cities  follow  different  policies.  Ten  or  a 
dozen  years  ago  Boston  adopted  the  policy  of  scattering  the  houses, 
with  the  result  that  to-day  they  are  sprinkled  all  over  the  city, 
but  most  thickly  in  the  lodging-house  districts.  Prostitution  would 
undoubtedly  arise  in  lodging-houses  even  were  there  no  houses  of 
ill- fame  in  the  district,  but  as  it  is  now  there  is  an  inextricable  mix- 
ture of  the  good  and  the  bad,  the  prevalence  of  the  evil  is  intensified 
by  loose  women  living  in  rooms  instead  of  regular  houses,  and  daily 
contact  renders  every  one  familiar  with  at  least  the  outward  aspects 
of  the  immoral  life.  There  is  of  course  a  strong  argument  on  the 
other  side,  in  favor  of  scattering  the  houses.  But  we  have  here  no 
intention  of  taking  up  the  question  either  pro  or  con.  We  merely 
wish  to  emphasize  that  the  problem  of  prostitution  and  the  moral 
problem  of  the  lodging-house  cannot  be  separated.  The  final 
solution  of  either  will  do  much  toward  solving  the  other. 

At  the  risk  of  trying  the  reader's  patience  extracts  from  the 
personal  narratives  of  two  actual  lodging-house  occupants  are  here 
inserted.  These  concrete  cases  could  be  duplicated  many  times 
over,  but  these  two  are  especially  interesting  because  they  illustrate 


CRIME  AND  PROSTITUTION  145 

in  concrete  form  so  many  of  the  characteristics  of  lodging-house  life 
—  the  heterogeneity  and  fluidity  of  population,  the  buying  and 
selling  and  moving,  the  eating  in  cafe's,  the  struggle  to  maintain 
standards  of  living,  the  isolations  of  the  lodger's  life,  and  the  moral 
dangers  with  which  that  life  is  beset. 

Two  Experiences  0}  Lodging-House  Life 

Number  i.  "Once  I  found  myself  living  in  a  sunless,  cellary 
room,  and  I  thought  best  to  make  a  change.  I  waited  for  the  sum- 
mer vacation,  when  I  should  have  more  time,  but  for  months 
beforehand  I  was  making  inquiries  of  all  my  friends  and  looking 
about  myself.  .  .  .  When  the  summer  came  I  went  to  the  Women's 
Educational  and  Industrial  Union,  which  keeps  a  book  containing 
the  addresses  of  rooms  and  gives  references  of  the  landladies.  I 
took  a  long  trip  for  the  sole  purpose  of  making  inquiry  of  one  whom 
I  thought  knew  as  to  what  was  a  safe  locality,  one  that  could  not 
be  questioned,  and  made  every  effort  that  I  could  think  of  to  make 
sure  that  I  was  making  the  right  move.  I  decided  as  the  best  I 
could  do  to  go  to  a  house  kept  by  a  young  couple  just  from  the 
country. 

"I  moved  in  July.  The  last  week  in  September  I  left  the  city 
a  week  on  business.  When  I  returned  a  new  landlady  was  installed. 
A  remark  that  she  made  to  the  effect  that  if  one  wished  to  keep  the 
house  filled,  one  could  not  be  particular,  but  must  take  whoever 
came  along,  decided  me  at  once  not  to  stay  with  her.  She  in  turn 
decided  to  take  another  house,  and  wished  me  to  go  with  her. 

"Not  wishing  to  move  so  soon  again  unless  necessary,  I  went  to 
the  agent  and  made  arrangements  to  keep  my  room  if  a  satisfactory 
party  took  the  house.  I  emphasized  the  fact  that  I  could  put  up 
with  some  things  that  I  did  n't  like,  but  the  thing  that  I  must  insist 
upon  was  that  every  one  in  the  house  must  be  of  unquestionable 
character.  I  also  saw  the  owner,  and  repeated  the  same  to  him. 
I  received  assurances  that  I  should  be  'protected,'  and  no  one  but 
desirable  parties  should  come  in.  When  the  house  was  let,  I  took 
pains  to  say  the  same  thing  to  landlady  no.  3,  and  was  assured  again 
and  again  that  everything  should  be  straight  about  the  place 

"  One  night  later  I  went  to  sleep  at  ten  P.  M.  to  find  myself  soon 


146        THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

broad  awake.  At  first  all  was  silent  as  death,  but  in  a  few  minutes 
there  were  low  shrieks  that  soon  became  frightful.  I  heard  the 
housekeeper  call  'what's  the  matter?'  and  then  she  came  bursting 
into  my  room,  telling  me  that  that  had  been  going  on  for  some  time. 
I  thought  the  man  was  killing  his  wife,  and  as  I  listened  breath- 
lessly after  every  sickening  thud  and  cessation  of  shrieks,  and 
wondered  if  he  had  choked  her  to  death,  I  thought  of  myself  in 
a  police  court  as  witness;  of  my  name  in  the  papers;  of  the  friends 
in  the  country  who  would  be  astonished,  some  perhaps  suspicious, 
at  my  being  in  a  place  like  that.  .  .  . 

"There  was  but  a  sick  man  in  the  house  outside  of  the  quarrel- 
some couple,  and  while  I  was  asking  myself  if  I  had  the  courage 
to  rap  on  the  door  below,  the  policeman  rang  the  bell.  I  was  on  the 
top  floor  and  could  not  speak  to  him,  and  the  rest  kept  perfectly 
silent.  The  woman  who  did  the  shrieking  answered  the  officer,  and 
all  was  quiet  for  the  rest  of  the  night.  The  housekeeper  instructed 
her  daughters  to  lie  to  the  officer,  and  he  was  told  that  they  did  not 
hear  any  noise  or  know  of  any  trouble.  I  told  my  landlady  that  I 
should  not  stay  another  night  in  that  house  until  those  people  went 
out.  In  a  few  days  they  did  so.  The  drink  was  not  the  worst  of  it. 
There  is  no  doubt  whatever  that  no  marriage  ceremony  had  been 
performed  for  them,  and  the  woman  was  not  even  true  to  the  self- 
imposed  bond,  and  that  was  the  trouble. 

"Every  landlady  who  wishes  you  to  think  her  establishment 
irreproachable  will  tell  you  that  she  keeps  'a  very  quiet  house,'  but, 
with  the  exception  of  that  single  night  when  passion  got  beyond 
control,  that  was  a  very  quiet  house,  and  I  doubt  if  my  landlady 
would  ever  have  sent  that  couple  adrift  if  they  had  kept  quiet.  .  .  . 

"The  man  who  followed  and  wanted  'to  be  in  a  quiet  house'  was 
just  as  bland  and  smooth  in  his  talk  and  carefully  quiet  in  his  ways 
as  possible.  He  rented  a  room  on  the  lower  floor.  I  went  to  my 
landlady  and  said,  'Apropos  of  the  trouble  we  have  recently  had, 
I  would  like  to  ask  what  you  know  of  the  character  of  this  man.' 
'Nothing,  except  that  he  came  from  Tremont  Street  and  wanted 
to  be  in  a  quiet  house.'  'Did  n't  you  ask  him  for  any  references?' 
'No.'  It  is  needless  to  say  that  I  knew  that  I  must  go  elsewhere  for 
a  room,  but  I  hoped  that  matters  might  not  come  to  a  crisis  until  I 
could  have  time  in  the  summer  to  set  up  another  despairing  hunt. 


CRIME  AND  PROSTITUTION  147 

A  hasty  move  might  land  me  in  just  as  bad  a  place.  To  close  the 
story,  this  man  went  around  the  streets  asking  young  girls  to  come 
into  his  room  and  drink  wine.  They  came,  and  he  let  them  in.  It 
is  easy  to  drug  wine ;  he  used  to  let  them  out  the  next  morning. 

"...  I  wrote  my  employer  that  I  could  not  go  to  him,  gave  up 
a  week's  rent  that  I  had  paid,  and  tumbled  out  of  the  place. 

"There  was  no  time  that  I  was  there  that  I  felt  in  personal 
peril.  If  I  had  been  a  young  girl,  fond  of  company,  and  with  few 
resources,  I  should  not  have  been  safe.  And  I  can  see  no  reason  why 
a  young  girl,  even  with  the  best  intentions,  might  not  be  put  in 
similar  conditions.  I  know  of  no  precaution  I  could  take  that  I 
did  not  take.  Available  knowledge  of  safe  places  is  altogether  inade- 
quate, and  sooner  or  later,  I  think  the  girl  finds  herself  on  the  street 
hunting  rooms,  relying  on  the  signs  she  sees  or  the  'ads.'  she  has 
read  in  the  morning  papers." 

Number  2.  "I  came  as  a  girl  to  work  in  Boston  fresh  from  a 
simple  life  in  the  country. 

"Such  relatives  as  were  left  to  me  ...  assisted  me  to  find  a 
lodging- room  in  the  South  End.  I  was  too  inexperienced  to  under- 
stand their  anxiety  for  me  in  regard  to  the  character  of  the  house 
where  I  was  to  live.  I  was  finally  settled  in  a  side  room  in  a  house 
kept  by  a  man  and  his  wife  where  some  cousins  of  mine  also  lodged. 
The  protection  which  their  company  afforded  certainly  seemed 
ample,  and  the  arrangement  was  a  pleasant  one. 

"After  living  there  for  some  weeks  in  my  narrow  quarters,  for 
which  I  paid  $1.50  a  week,  I  went  down  one  evening  to  my  land- 
lady's parlor  to  pay  my  rent.  Her  husband  was  seated  in  the  room 
and  she  was  lying  on  the  couch.  ...  I  was  forced  to  the  suspicion 
that  she  was  drunk.  ...  A  little  while  elapsed  before  I  saw  her 
one  afternoon  when  I  returned  home,  seated  in  the  lap  of  a  man 
who  was  not  her  husband,  while  on  the  table  near  them  were  bottles 
and  glasses.  Needless  to  say  that  with  such  evidence  my  cousins 
and  myself  gave  up  our  rooms  in  that  house.  There  had  been  other 
reasons  for  judging  my  landlady's  character  adversely,  of  which  I 
did  not  feel  the  full  weight  until  with  greater  experience  I  realized 
to  the  full  their  significance.  There  is  no  doubt  that  she  would  have 


148       THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

led  me  into  a  life  of  ruin  if  I  had  heeded  her  suggestions  or  shown 
any  disposition  for  a  life  of  excitement.  .  .  .  On  another  occasion 
she  told  me  with  cruel  frankness  that  another  woman  occupant  of 
the  house,  with  whom  I  had  been  for  some  time  on  friendly  terms, 
was  the  mistress  and  not  the  wife,  as  I  had  supposed,  of  the  man 
who  came  to  spend  Sundays  with  her. 

"Leaving  this  vicious  place,  I  secured  another  side  room  in  a 
house  which  also  seemed  eminently  respectable.  A  school-teacher 
and  a  married  couple  certainly  gave  it  a  good  tone.  The  woman 
in  charge  was  young  and  very  attractive.  She  spoke  of  it  as  her 

mother's  house,  and  I  called  her  'Mrs. .'  Before  long,  when 

I  went  to  pay  my  rent  I  began  to  meet  in  her  parlor  a  very  hand- 
some and  agreeable  man.  One  day  she  was  ill  in  her  room,  so  that 
I  went  in  there  to  pay  my  rent.  I  was  very  much  surprised  to  find 
it  most  elegantly  furnished.  Her  dresses  had  always  seemed  to  me 
out  of  place  in  her  business  as  a  lodging-house  keeper,  but  I  was 
not  disposed  to  be  over- critical.  The  illness  proved  to  be  consump- 
tion of  such  a  nature  that  she  was  prescribed  country  air.  Again 
I  was  misled  because  she  had  a  doctor  to  whom  I  had  been  myself, 
and  who  was,  I  supposed,  a  person  practicing  among  respectable 
people.  The  gentleman  now  urged  in  every  way  that  I  should  go  to 
the  country  with  her,  promising  that  in  any  event  I  should  be  amply 
paid  and  would  not  be  allowed  to  suffer  by  giving  up  my  permanent 
position  with  its  scanty  six  dollars  a  week.  My  eyes  had  been  opened 
sufficiently  to  make  me  uncomfortable  and  suspicious,  and  I  refused. 
I  can  see  now  how  if  that  offer  had  come  a  little  later,  when  I  was 
unexpectedly  without  work,  I  might  in  perfect  good  faith  have 
accepted  a  position  most  compromising  and  embarrassing,  to  say 
the  least,  for  her  death  occurred  within  a  week. 

"My  next  move  was  a  most  agreeable  combination  with  some 
young  married  friends.  The  woman  who  kept  the  house  was  not 
very  attractive,  so  we  saw  her  only  when  we  paid  the  rent.  This 
arrangement  lasted  a  winter  until  the  others  went  to  housekeeping. 
Soon  after  I  fell  seriously  ill.  My  doctor  summoned  a  friend  who, 
coming  to  see  me  during  the  day,  quickly  discovered  what  I  and  my 
friends  had  never  suspected  —  that  the  two  lower  floors  of  the  house 
were  being  used  for  gambling  and  other  most  disreputable  purposes. 
I  was  at  once  removed,  but  it  was  only  four  or  five  weeks  later  that 


CRIME  AND  PROSTITUTION  149 

the  house  was  raided  by  the  police.  Had  I  remained  an  unsuspecting 
inmate  of  such  a  house,  —  what  might  it  have  meant  to  a  girl 
whose  good  character  was  her  chief  reliance  in  earning  a  slender 
living  ? 
"Such  was  my  introduction  to  city  life." 


CHAPTER   XVI 

THE  PROBLEM  OF  MARRIAGE 

VIEWED  in  proper  perspective  the  lodging-house  question  is  of  far 
broader  sociological  significance  than  the  mere  number  of  persons 
involved  might  lead  us  to  suppose.  It  is  in  fact  an  important 
phase  of  the  general  problem  of  the  home,  —  of  the  maintenance  of 
the  home  ideal  against  certain  social  and  economic  forces  which 
in  the  present  era  are  tending  strongly  to  disrupt  it.  We  have 
just  had  a  glimpse  into  the  darker  recesses  of  lodging-house  life, 
and  we  cannot  but  pause  to  inquire  what,  in  the  light  of  the 
preceding  chapter,  must  be  the  influence  of  the  lodging-house 
upon  the  home  life  of  those  who  go  out  from  it.  What  is  its  effect 
upon  the  marriage-rate,  and  upon  the  attitude  of  men  and  women 
toward  the  institutions  of  marriage,  home,  and  family?  Are  the 
dearth  of  children  in  the  lodging-house  section  and  the  extremely 
low  birth-rate  there  due  to  scarcity  of  marriages  among  persons 
who  are,  or  who  have  been,  lodgers  ?  Is,  or  is  not,  the  influence  of 
the  lodging-house  to  postpone  marriage  indefinitely,  and  in  some 
cases  to  do  away  with  it  altogether  as  an  unnecessary  restriction 
upon  personal  liberty  ?  Upon  the  answer  to  these  questions,  so  far 
as  any  answer  is  possible  in  the  present  state  of  our  knowledge, 
depends  still  further  our  judgment  of  the  moral  and  social  status 
of  the  lodging-house. 

First  of  all  it  is  necessary  to  ascertain  the  facts.  Do  lodgers 
marry  ?  And  if  they  marry,  do  they  have  children  ?  Unfortunately 
for  this  inquiry  these  queries  cannot  be  answered  definitely.  There 
is  no  statistical  evidence  one  way  or  the  other.  It  is  to  be  regretted 
that  the  Annual  Reports  of  the  City  Registry  Department,  while 
giving  by  wards  valuable  tabulations  of  birth-  and  death-rates, 
afford  us  absolutely  no  information  concerning  local  marriage-rates. 
Had  we  the  marriage-rate  of  Ward  12,  as  we  have  its  birth-  and  death- 
rates,  we  could  therefrom  make  some  rough  inference  as  to  the 
probable  extent  of  marriage  in  the  lodging-house  population.  In 
the  absence  of  direct  statistics  we  must  resort  to  indirect  methods. 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  MARRIAGE  151 

The  birth-  and  death-rates  tell  something.  Other  things  being  equal, 
a  locality  that  does  not  naturally  reproduce  itself  —  in  other  words 
one  in  which  the  annual  death-rate  exceeds  year  after  year  the 
annual  birth-rate,  as  is  the  case  in  Ward  12  —  probably  has  a  low 
marriage-rate.  On  the  other  hand  it  is  entirely  possible  that  even 
with  this  excess  of  deaths  over  births  a  high  marriage-rate  might  still 
exist.  This  would  be  so  did  lodgers  marry  and  then  move  out  of 
the  district,  or  if  after  marriage  they  did  not  have  children,  both 
of  which  suppositions  are  to  some  extent  true  to  fact.  Nevertheless 
the  extremely  low  birth-rate  of  the  lodging-house  district  stands  as 
a  black  mark  against  it.  The  movement  of  married  lodgers  from 
the  district  cannot  be  measured  without  the  aid  of  a  special  city  or 
state  census,  and  even  by  that  means  it  is  doubtful  if  it  would  be 
easy  to  arrive  at  a  close  approximation  to  the  truth.  All,  then,  that 
the  statistics  tell  us  is  that  if  lodgers  marry  they  do  not  remain 
in  the  district  and  have  children. 

The  writer  had  hoped  that  some  evidence  might  be  gleaned  from 
church-records,  from  physicians,  ministers,  and  from  landladies; 
but  the  church- records  tell  us  nothing,  the  physicians  have  little 
to  say  on  the  subject,  and  the  evidence  of  the  landladies  is  conflicting 
and  on  this  point  unreliable.  Only  by  the  ministers,  who  perform 
marriages,  are  we  granted  a  grain  of  comfort,  and  that  a  small  one. 
Most  of  the  South  End  ministers  know  little  of  lodging-house  life. 
Their  congregations  consist  largely  of  people  from  outside  the 
district,  and,  with  one  or  two  exceptions,  they  themselves  live  in 
the  suburbs.  One  or  two,  however,  come  more  or  less  in  contact 
with  lodgers,  and  are  seeking  intelligently  to  attack  the  lodging- 
house  problem.  One  minister  states  that  on  the  average  he  performs 
two  marriages  per  week,  one  of  which  is  of  lodgers.  Another  per- 
forms an  average  of  three  marriages  per  week  of  lodgers,  but  his 
practice  is  altogether  exceptional.  He  is  well  known  to  the  lodgers. 
His  opinion  is  that  sooner  or  later  the  lodger  does  marry,  but  that 
in  most  cases  the  step  is  postponed  indefinitely,  generally  for  eco- 
nomic reasons.  We  are,  however,  left  in  the  dark  as  to  the  actual 
number  of  marriages  or  the  actual  marriage-rate  among  lodgers, 
as  compared  with  other  classes.  One  fact  we  may  be  sure  of:  the 
tendency  of  lodging-house  life  is  to  postpone  both  marriage  and  the 
intention  to  marry. 


152        THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

This  slowness  of  the  lodger  to  undertake  the  responsibilities  of 
the  marriage-tie  is  due  to  three  varieties  of  causes,  social,  economic, 
and  moral. 

Among  the  social  influences  stands  first  the  fact  that  lodgers  have 
little  opportunity  to  meet  in  legitimate  social  intercourse.  Some- 
thing has  been  said  of  the  lamentable  isolation  of  the  individual 
condemned  to  the  life  of  the  lodger,  but  it  will  bear  reemphasis. 
The  fact  that  not  one  lodging-house  in  a  hundred  has  a  public 
parlor  or  reception-room,  in  which  women  lodgers  may  receive 
their  friends  is  strong  evidence  that  men  and  women  are  not,  in  the 
average  rooming-house,  thrown  together  in  the  most  healthy  sort 
of  relation.  Some  girls  will  readily  accept  the  way  of  the  world, 
reluctantly  or  thoughtlessly  as  the  case  may  be,  and  rather  than 
be  isolated  from  natural  intercourse,  descend  to  the  level  of  lodging- 
house  etiquette.  Others  positively  refuse  to  receive  a  man  caller  in 
their  bedrooms.  Such  must  either  go  without  male  company  or 
else  enjoy  it  strolling  the  street  or  sitting  on  a  park  bench  in  the 
uncertain  lights  and  shadows  of  trees  and  electric  lights.  It  is  a 
question  which  of  these  courses  is  most  demoralizing.  Most  girls 
in  lodging-houses  are  either  working  their  way  alone  in  Boston  or 
are  there  as  students,  with  scarcely  any  one  near  to  take  a  friendly 
and  at  the  same  time  intelligent  interest  in  them.  Bad  as  the  old- 
time  boarding-house  might  be  in  its  moral  influence  (and  it  could 
be  and  still  is,  where  it  exists,  sometimes  extremely  detrimental  to 
moral  standards),  there  was  nevertheless  the  landlady  herself  who 
knew  her  boarders  at  least  by  name  and  occupation,  and  who  in 
probably  the  majority  of  houses  would  do  what  was  in  her  power 
to  preserve  a  girl  or  young  man  from  a  false  step.  The  meetings 
between  young  men  and  women  in  the  boarding-house  were  much 
more  natural  and  normal,  and  took  place  under  much  more  nearly 
the  conditions  demanded  by  common-sense  propriety  than  do  those 
of  the  lodging-house.  And  they  were  very  much  more  frequent. 

It  is  extremely  doubtful,  however,  whether  the  insistence  that 
every  house  should  have  a  public  parlor  would  cure  the  evils  to 
which  we  have  alluded,  although  it  would  undoubtedly  contribute 
some  alleviation  to  a  situation  now  all  but  hopeless. 

A  second,  more  deeply  rooted  social  influence  also  comes  in  here 
—  class  consciousness.  The  writer  once  heard  a  college  student 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  MARRIAGE  153 

speak  in  tones  of  regret  of  a  girl  who  had  married  a  railway  brake- 
man,  as  if  she  were  uncompromisingly  lost  by  marrying  out  of  her 
class,  although  upon  inquiry  it  appeared  that  she  herself  was  the 
daughter  of  a  village  merchant.  This  is  one  matter  in  which  fiction 
is  not  truer  than  real  life.  Class  consciousness  has  an  existence  in 
real  life  which  can  scarcely  be  overestimated.  The  important  fact 
to  note  here  is  that  it  retards  the  marriage- rate,  especially  in  the 
city.  The  average  shop-girl  or  stenographer  or  dressmaker  prob- 
ably would  look  upon  "going  into  service"  and  marrying  a  mechanic 
as  two  evils  between  which  she  would  rather  not  have  to  choose. 
It  is  a  curious  fact  that  even  girls  of  the  great  working-class  itself 
sometimes  look  down  upon  its  men,  and  would  as  a  rule  welcome 
a  chance  of  marrying  out  of  it.  This  attitude  is  perhaps  due  in  part 
to  much  dime-novel  and  penny-dreadful  reading,  to  which  it  is 
ascribed  by  a  woman  who  had  abundant  opportunity  for  first-hand 
observation  of  working- girls.1  It  may  be  due  also  to  a  commendable 
desire  to  better  one's  position  in  life.  Probably,  moreover,  the  fact 
that  some  lines  of  employment  are  largely  given  over  to  particular 
nationalities  proves  a  barrier.  Back  even  of  these  influences  there 
no  doubt  lies  something  of  the  old  feeling  that  manual  work  is 
degrading,  that  the  dry-goods  clerk  is  more  of  a  gentleman  than  the 
brick-mason  or  the  begrimed  machinist.  There  is  that  in  lodging- 
house  life,  too,  which  sometimes  makes  a  girl  choose  rather  to  be 
the  mistress  of  the  man  with  money  than  the  wife  of  a  working-man 
or  poorly-paid  office  employee.  And  the  man  very  often  coldly 
calculates  that  it  will  cost  less  to  keep  such  a  mistress,  who  can 
work  and  earn  some  money  wages  for  herself,  than  to  marry  and  set 
up  housekeeping.  In  brief,  social  classes  and  conflicting  social  ideals 
tend  to  erect  barriers  of  pride  and  artificial  notions  of  propriety 
which  in  many  cases  are  not  easily  broken  over  and  in  many 
others  are  broken  down  with  such  a  crash  of  moral  sensibilities 
that  marriage  does  not  seem  a  necessary  formality.  The  average 
mercantile  employee,  man  or  woman,  attains  to  social  standards 
which  are  conceived  to  render  marriage  with  a  member  of  the 
"working-class"  undesirable,  though  all  manner  of  temporary 
alliances  may  be  tolerated,  and  thus  matrimonial  unions  which, 

1  Cf .  The  Long  Day  —  the  Story  oj  a  New  York  Working  Girl  as  Told  by  Her- 
selj,  New  York. 


154       THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

under  a  more  thoughtful,  and  less  selfishly  conventional  sense  of 
propriety  would  be  in  all  respects  beneficial  to  society  and  happy 
for  the  individuals  themselves,  are  prevented. 

The  selfish  individualism  of  lodging-house  life,  however,  lies 
deeper  than  class  consciousness  and  false  social  scales.  Its  root  is 
economic.  Modern  competitive  industry  is  a  grimly  contested 
game,  in  which  every  man's  hand  is  against  his  fellow.  The  splitting 
up  into  groups  merely  serves  to  obscure  this  fact.  Each  man,  each 
group,  is  quick  to  assert  rights,  but  not  slow  to  take  advantage  of 
another  whenever  opportunity  affords. 

Not  every  motive  in  competitive  society,  of  course,  is  based  on 
this  narrow  selfishness.  There  is  much  altruism,  even  in  American 
cities,  but  the  fact  that  it  so  conspicuously  takes  on  the  name  of 
charity  and  philanthropy  is  in  itself  a  sorry  commentary  upon  our 
feeble  powers  of  industrial  and  social  cooperation.  It  is  especially 
in  cities  that  the  most  intense  individualism  is  rampant.  There 
such  a  thing  as  "  neighborliness "  (outside  the  tenements)  is  rare. 
Mutual  aid  is  rarely  spontaneous;  it  has  to  be  carefully  organized, 
with  by-laws  and  a  constitution.  Country  and  village  and  town 
know  what  community-life  is.  The  city  knows  chiefly  group-life. 
And  within  and  between  the  groups  constant  conflict  —  an  all  but 
Darwinian  struggle  —  is  the  normal  condition.  Into  this  seething 
mass  young  persons  are  dropped,  believing  that  they  are  entering 
a  veritable  elysium  of  opportunity  where  they  can  show  their  mettle. 

They  come  with  certain  economic  standards  of  living  which 
vary  more  or  less  between  the  different  occupational  branches. 
Despite  the  general  leveling  tendencies  of  economic  competition 
and  the  dreariness  of  lodging-house  existence,  individuals  cling 
with  a  death-grasp  to  the  maintenance  of  such  economic  standards 
as  they  possess.  The  selfishness  of  the  individual  is  still  further 
cultivated  by  the  hard  conditions  of  the  economic  struggle  which  he, 
or  she,  has  to  make.  The  warm-hearted  girl,  and  the  genial,  generous 
young  fellow  very  soon  become  cold  and  calculating,  seeking  every- 
where the  greatest  individual  comfort  at  the  least  expense.  Nor  is 
this  much  to  be  wondered  at  when  we  remember  how  near  the 
subsistence  limit  are  wages,  especially  of  women  and  of  unskilled 
men  in  all  employments.  Standards  of  living,  cost  of  living,  and 
wages  thus  assume  paramount  importance  in  the  marriage  question. 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  MARRIAGE  155 

Both  men  and  women  come  to  value  highly  the  pseudo- Bohemian- 
ism  and  the  artificial  excitements  of  city  life,  and  marriage  comes 
to  be  looked  upon  as  too  great  a  sacrifice,  —  a  sacrifice  which 
looks  all  the  greater,  too,  when  it  is  perceived  that  the  wages  of  the 
girl  will  in  all  likelihood  have  to  be  given  up  sooner  or  later,  and 
that  the  two  will  have  to  subsist  on  what  now  is  scarcely  enough  for 
one. 

It  would  not  be  correct,  however,  to  hold,  as  some  opponents 
of  women's  labor  are  disposed  to  hold,  that  the  employment  of  a 
woman  brings  down  the  wages  of  the  man  in  the  same  or  similar 
employments,  who  would  in  the  natural  course  be  likely  to  marry 
her;  so  that  he  is  handicapped  as  a  bread-winner  for  her  and 
her  children,  thus  establishing  a  vicious  circle  which  is  to  be  held 
responsible  for  many  of  the  economic  and  moral  difficulties  which 
cause  the  lodging-house  problem.  It  would  require  more  courage 
than  we  have  thus  to  lay  the  lodging-house  problem  at  the  door 
of  woman-labor  and  women's  wages.  We  have  yet  to  find  any 
authority  who  ascribes  a  low  rate  of  wages,  when  it  exists  generally, 
to  the  competition  of  women,  although  such  competition  may  be 
one  factor.  And  in  so  far  as  the  wages  of  men  are  low  enough  to 
exert  an  influence  tending  to  postpone  marriage  and  diminish  the 
marriage-rate,  this  result  must  be  attributed  to  all  the  numerous 
forces  which  determine  wages,  and  not  to  a  minor  individual  influ- 
ence like  the  competition  of  women  in  certain  specific  lines  of 
employment. 

Where  women  are  paid  less  than  men  for  the  same  kind  and 
amount  of  labor,  men  necessarily  feel  that  competition  and  evils 
may  result.  But  the  obvious  remedy  is  not  the  exclusion  of  women 
from  that  employment,  but  through  trade-union  agencies  or  other- 
wise to  raise  their  wages  to  the  level  of  those  of  men.  There  never 
was  a  time  when  justice  did  not  demand  equal  wages,  for  the  same 
work,  for  men  and  women,  but  it  has  been  only  as  the  fact  that 
social  expediency  also  demands  it  has  slowly  dawned  on  the  con- 
sciousness of  trade-unionists  and  economists  that  the  cry  has  gone 
up  for  organization  and  equal  remuneration.  The  unions  in  self- 
defense  have  been  compelled  to  take  up  the  cause  of  women  in 
industry,  and  therein  lies  the  remedy  for  such  temporary  evils  as 
may  come  from  this  source. 


156       THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

The  case  of  the  married  woman  working  for  wages  and  that  of 
the  pin-money  worker  stand  upon  somewhat  different  footing. 
Where  both  husband  and  wife  work  for  wages,  both  may  be  tempted, 
unless  prevented  by  collective  bargaining,  to  accept  lower  wages  than 
they  would  were  they  unmarried.  Wherever  a  married  woman  does 
the  same  work  and  accepts  less  pay  for  it,  the  employer  is  virtually 
getting  a  subsidy  in  the  shape  of  a  rebate  in  wage-payments,  and  did 
any  considerable  number  of  married  women  take  this  course,  their 
competition  might  be  felt  as  an  unfair  pressure  upon  men  and  upon 
women  who  have  to  earn  all  their  own  support.  It  is  not  probable, 
however,  that  any  considerable  number  of  married  women  will, 
for  a  long  time  to  come  at  least,  be  employed  for  wages,  and  even 
if  they  are  an  increasing  intelligence  in  unionism  and  collective 
bargaining  will  prevent  them  from  accepting  cut-rate  wages. 

The  competition  of  the  pin-money  worker  is  at  present  serious, 
not  for  men,  but  for  women  who  have  for  support  only  what  they 
earn  themselves.  The  women  and  girls  who  go  into  the  department- 
stores,  into  offices  and  factories  and  mills,  for  supplementary  wages 
must  be  eliminated  if  the  problem  of  a  general  living-wage  which 
will  allow  a  reasonably  timely  marriage  is  to  be  settled.  Perhaps 
such  workers  constitute  the  chief  cause  of  lower  wages  for  women 
than  men,  or  if  not  the  cause,  at  least  the  occasion.  We  saw  in  Chap- 
ter xi  that  female  department-store  employees  largely  live  at  home. 
The  writer  tried  persistently  to  get  data  relating  to  the  number  of 
mercantile  employees  of  large  department-stores  who  were  living 
in  lodgings.  In  a  few  instances  store  superintendents  were  cordial 
and  helpful,  and  one  superintendent  of  employees  went  so  far  as 
to  have  the  time-clerk  make  out  a  list  of  nearly  a  thousand  employees 
with  their  addresses.  One  store  had  data  ready  at  hand  telling 
whether  each  employee  boarded,  lodged,  or  lived  at  home.  At 
some  stores,  however,  evasive  answers  were  given,  and  promises 
of  information  made  only  to  be  forgotten  or  broken.  And  at  some 
others  the  authorities  came  out  flat-footedly  with  the  comprehensive 
statement  that  they  employed  only  girls  living  at  home  (not  stating 
why)  and  hinted  in  not  very  subtile  terms  that  they  did  not  need 
investigation. 

There  is  another  phase  of  pin-money  wages  also.  The  girl  who 
receives  them  may  neither  live  at  home  nor  be  self-supporting. 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  MARRIAGE  157 

Little  doubt  exists  in  the  writer's  mind  that  much  of  the  rumor 
of  immorality  in  the  conditions  under  which  sales-girls,  and  depart- 
ment-store employees  generally,  have  to  work  is  well  founded  in 
fact.  This  belief  is  based  on  the  attitude  of  some  department-store 
officials  with  whom  he  has  come  in  contact,  and  also  on  direct 
authority  of  men  thoroughly  familiar  with  the  mercantile  business 
in  New  York  and  Chicago.  It  is  asserted  that  some  employers, 
especially  managers  of  great  and  popular  cheap- price  department- 
stores,  do  not  take  it  amiss  if  their  women  employees  have  "gentle- 
men friends"  to  live  with.  This  is  not  saying  that  any  considerable 
number  of  shop-girls  do  so  live.  As  to  the  actual  extent  of  the  prac- 
tice we  know  nothing.  When  you  hear,  however,  of  a  department- 
store  official  making  bets  that  he  will  be  able  to  seduce  a  "stubborn" 
girl  before  the  month  is  up  (and  that  he  did  so),  any  possibility 
may  be  looked  for.  The  cause  of  the  evil  does  not  lie  primarily 
in  the  class  of  girls  employed,  nor  in  the  general  social  conditions 
of  city  life,  nor  even  in  the  cynical  selfishness  of  employers,  super- 
intendents, and  managers,  which  is  in  turn  communicated  to  the 
rank  and  file  of  men  employees,  though  these  are  powerful  con- 
tributory causes.  The  root  of  the  situation  lies  in  the  low  wages  of 
shop-girls.  It  is  not  within  our  province  to  write  a  disquisition  upon 
women's  wages,  but  this  much  seems  to  us  true:  that  so  long  as 
women  Ure  paid  less  than  men  for  the  same  work,  or  practically 
the  same  work,  then  questions  of  morals  will  inevitably  follow.  It 
may  be  a  question  whether,  in  mercantile  employment,  say,  low 
wages  cause  immoral  private  lives  or  immoral  private  lives  low 
wages.  It  might  be,  of  course,  that  because  a  girl  can  live  with  a 
"gentleman  friend"  or  be  partially  supported  by  a  married  man 
living  in  another  town  or  another  part  of  the  same  city,  she  will  be 
able  and  willing  to  spend  her  days  behind  a  counter  for  wages  on 
which  alone  she  could  hardly  keep  soul  and  body  together.  Un- 
doubtedly it  does  work  this  way  sometimes.  But  the  bulk  of  the 
influence  is  the  other  way.  The  fact  that  wages  are  below  decent 
subsistence  level  is  a  direct  and  powerful  incentive  to  the  self- 
sustaining  girl  to  take  the  first  step  toward  "easier"  conditions. 
Grant  that  most  of  her  companions  live  at  home  and  lead,  as  the 
world  goes,  perfectly  normal  and  moral  lives.  This  makes  it  all  the 
harder  for  the  girl  in  question.  They  may  spend  all  their  money 


158        THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

on  dress,  theatre,  and  other  pleasures ;  she,  though  equally  pretty, 
equally  clever,  with  as  good  education,  must  pay  the  lion's  share  of 
her  wages  for  a  cold  hall-bedroom  on  some  street  most  of  her  ac- 
quaintances never  heard  of,  and  for  lonely  breakfasts  and  suppers  in 
cheap  eating- places;  must  go  less  well-dressed  than  they,  and  perhaps 
as  time  goes  on,  be  a  less  efficient  saleswoman  because  of  her  unequal 
struggle.  Let  her  ask  for  living  wages  and  be  brutally  asked,  "Well, 
why  don't  you  get  a  gentleman  friend!"  or  let  her  be  approached 
subtly  and  insinuatingly,  and  what  are  the  probabilities  of  her 
action  ?  Give  her  living  wages,  and  in  most  cases  she  would  rise 
above  the  temptation,  if  it  were  one.  Give  her  the  "pin-money" 
wages  on  which  so  many  mercantile  female-wage  scales  are  based, 
and  the  result  is  not  so  sure. 

The  girl  who  works  for  subsidiary  wages  and  falls  into  the  trap 
of  being  partially  supported  by  "a  friend"  loses  that  independence 
the  desire  for  which  may  have  been  the  very  thing  that  induced  her 
to  enter  the  ranks  of  the  employed.  Probably  the  sense  of  freedom 
in  small  money- matters  from  parents  or  relatives  acts  as  a  strong 
incentive  to  many  girls  to  go  to  work  early,  even  where  it  is  by  no 
means  necessary.  Now  this  desire  for  independence  is  partially 
good,  partially  bad  —  bad  because  it  is  content  with  a  partial  inde- 
pendence, which  becomes  in  the  long  run  something  of  a  bondage, 
good  because  it  points  in  the  right  direction  if  only  carried  far 
enough.  If  women  were  potentially  as  economically  independent  as 
men  there  would  be  far  less  prostitution,  licensed  and  unlicensed, 
than  there  is  to-day.  Women  who  have  the  power  to  earn  their  own 
living,  as  well  as  the  fortunate  ones  who  have  a  living  income  from 
property,  will  not  be  compelled  to  marry  for  a  living.  They  can 
maintain  their  independence  and  their  self-respect  as  individuals 
in  a  way  impossible  under  a  social  regime  in  which  women  were  not 
generally  permitted  to  enter  industry  if  they  so  chose.  Where  women 
can  earn  their  own  living  alone  if  need  be,  marriages  will  be  real 
marriages,  and  not,  as  we  venture  to  say  some  are  under  present 
conditions,  hypocritical  unions  ostensibly  for  love,  but  really  for  the 
gratification  of  the  man  and  the  support  of  the  woman. 

Probably  as  ideas  now  run  (the  idea  that  the  wife  is  "supported" 
and  that  the  husband  is  the  sole  bread-winner  of  the  family),  the 
loss  of  her  own  direct  industrial  earnings,  which  is  consequent  on 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  MARRIAGE  159 

marriage,  appears  to  the  more  thoughtful  girl  a  serious  loss  of 
independence.  But  this  fear  need  not  be  entertained  when  it  is 
recognized  more  explicitly  that  husband  and  wife  are  co-workers, 
co-partners  in  home-building  and  home- maintaining  even  where,  as 
in  most  cases  will  probably  be  true,  the  wife  is  not  a  money- wage 
earner.  Even  as  things  are,  where  husband  and  wife  both  go  on 
earning  wages,  as  is  true  in  many  cases,  this  objection  need  not 
apply,  but  in  such  cases  children  are  perhaps  not  likely  to  appear 
on  the  scene.  If  home  and  children  be  the  end  in  view,  the  wages  of 
the  wife,  under  present  conditions  at  least,  must  in  the  great  majority 
of  cases  be  sacrificed,  and  the  man  held  responsible  for  the  total 
money  (not  real)  income. 

The  question  of  relative  cost  of  living,  for  one  and  for  two,  then 
becomes  of  importance.  Whether,  as  is  sometimes  asserted,  a  couple 
can  live  on  practically  the  same  sum  necessary  for  one,  having  regard 
only  to  food  and  rent,  is  not  a  part  of  our  task  to  decide.  Certainly 
they  cannot  do  so  if  they  continue  living  in  lodging-houses.  It  can  be 
done  in  one  way  only.  The  woman  must  become  a  housekeeper,  and 
the  family  income  must  be  turned  over  directly  to  the  grocer  and  the 
owner  of  the  flat,  and  not  to  the  lodging-house  keeper  and  the  restau- 
rant-man. The  question  of  flat  and  apartment  rents  and  facilities 
thus  becomes  a  feature  in  the  solution  of  the  lodging-house  marriage 
question.  What  accommodations  exist  for  the  young  couple  of  very 
moderate  means  who  wish  to  set  up  housekeeping  ?  Data  are  not  at 
hand  for  the  answer,  and  to  collect  them  would  lead  us  beyond  the 
scope  of  this  investigation.  That  task  is  left  to  some  one  else.1 

The  writer  does  not  believe  that  apartment  facilities  in  Boston 
offer  the  same  inducement  to  the  young  couple  to  escape  from 
lodging-house  life  that  they  do  in  other  cities,  for  instance,  in  Chicago 
or  St.  Louis,  where  new  and  modern  flats  are  scattered  everywhere 
and  at  moderate  price.  Certainly  in  the  South  End  proper  —  the 

1  In  some  respects,  especially  in  its  connection  with  "high -class  prostitution"  and 
in  its  influence  upon  the  family  and  the  family  ideal,  the  modern  apartment-house  is 
as  worthy  of  attention  from  the  social  student  as  is  the  lodging-house.  Geographical 
distribution  of  apartment-houses  of  various  classes  in  city  and  suburbs,  rents  and 
extra  charges,  nature  of  service,  extent  to  which  flat-  and  apartment-dwellers  take 
in  lodgers,  rules  excluding  families  with  children,  and  the  general  social  and  moral 
tendencies  of  the  apartment -house  life  —  these  are  some  of  the  lines  of  investigation 
that  should  be  worked  out. 


160       THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

part  of  the  city  with  which  the  lodger  is  chiefly  familiar  —  apart- 
ment accommodations  are  very  meagre.  Two  classes  of  apartment- 
houses  are  to  be  distinguished :  first,  those  built  thirty  or  thirty-five 
years  ago  when  the  district  was  at  its  height,  and  which  were 
extremely  well  built,  for  a  fine  class  of  tenants ;  and  secondly,  those 
which  have  been  built  within  the  past  eight  or  ten  years,  and  which 
are  mostly  of  flimsy  construction,  and  intended  to  attract  a  much 
cheaper  tenantry  than  were  the  older  apartments.  Suites  of  from 
five  to  seven  rooms  can  be  had  in  the  older  houses  for  from  forty  to 
seventy-five  dollars  a  month  —  suites  which  used  to  rent  for  seventy- 
five  dollars  up.  In  the  newer  houses,  some  of  which  are  remodeled 
lodging-houses,  rents  do  not  fall  below  thirty  dollars  a  month. 
There  is  a  great  lack  of  small  apartments,  of  three  or  four  rooms, 
suitable  for  the  young  couple  of  moderate  means,  and  to  rent  for 
eighteen  or  twenty  dollars  a  month.  Such  apartments  can  be  had  in 
the  city,  but  in  districts  which  are  in  some  measure  undesirable  — 
either  because  they  are  more  or  less  infested  with  prostitutes,  or 
because  they  are  in  that  outer  limbo  of  the  city  which  is  neither  city 
nor  suburbs,  and  in  districts  where  the  line  between  the  flat  or  apart- 
ment and  the  tenement-house  is  very  indistinct.  It  makes  a  great 
difference  to  a  young  couple's  pride  whether  they  start  life  in  an 
"apartment"  or  a  "tenement." 

There  can  be  little  doubt  that  the  building  of  small,  moderate- 
priced  apartments  within  the  lodging-house  district  by  remodeling 
lodging-houses  at  a  nominal  cost,  as  would  be  possible  under  less 
unnecessarily  stringent  tenement-house  regulations,  would  be  a  great 
step  in  advance.1 

The  economic  obstacles  in  the  way  of  marriage  are  not  peculiar 
to  the  lodger.  His  difficulties  are  the  same  as  confront  all  classes. 
It  only  happens  that  at  the  particular  time  when  the  problem  comes 
into  the  life  of  very  many  young  men  and  women,  it  finds  them, 
because  of  the  conditions  of  modern  industry,  away  from  the  pa- 
rental roof  and  living  the  monotonous,  hand-to-mouth  existence  of 
the  lodging-  or  boarding-house.  It  would,  indeed,  be  exceedingly 
interesting  to  know  how  many  persons  in  the  city's  population  have 
been  at  some  time  in  their  lives  lodgers  or  boarders.  The  percentage 
would  certainly  not  be  small.  We  should  not  be  surprised,  there- 

Cf.  pp.  79,  80. 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  MARRIAGE  l6l 

fore,  that  the  lodger  is  somewhat  slow  in  marrying.  In  a  time  when 
members  of  the  middle  and  upper  classes  are  especially  chary  of 
early  marriage  and  large  families,  when  relative  poverty  is  as  pro- 
nounced among  lawyers,  teachers,  doctors,  and  scientific  men  as 
among  laborers  and  sewing-girls,  when  even  married  people  in 
well-to-do  circumstances  are  unwilling  to  incur  the  trouble  and 
expense  of  rearing  children,  when  in  high  society  circles  it  is  almost 
what  we  may  call  a  social  misdemeanor  to  have  a  family,  we  cannot 
be  surprised  that  the  ordinary  underpaid  clerk,  the  mechanic  with 
unsteady  employment,  the  small  dealer  dependent  upon  a  fluctuating 
and  uncertain  patronage,  and  the  struggling  young  lawyer  and 
dentist  for  a  long  time  hesitate  to  assume  the  responsibilities  of  the 
marriage  tie.  The  indications  are  that  this  postponement  of  mar- 
riage and  this  unwillingness  to  have  children  are  true,  not  only  of 
the  lodging-house  population,  but  of  all  parts  of  middle-class  society. 
The  decreasing  size  of  families  is  a  phenomenon  which  has  drawn 
the  attention  of  statisticians,  of  social  students,  of  clergymen,  and 
statesmen;  it  is  closely  connected  with  the  cry  of  "race  suicide," 
and  with  the  problems  growing  out  of  the  general  rush  to  the  cities, 
the  great  increase  in  the  cost  of  living  in  recent  years,  the  large 
number  of  divorces,  and  the  prevalence  of  all  sorts  of  prostitution. 
Standards  of  living,  under  the  influences  of  modern  city  life, 
are  thus  becoming  more  and  more  individualistic,  and  their  effect 
is  not  limited  to  preventing  young  people  of  one  economic  class 
from  freely  marrying  individuals  of  another  class,  nor  yet  merely 
to  postponing  the  time  of  marriage  and  increasing  the  age  of  wedding 
couples.  It  goes  much  farther.  The  unfashionableness  of  having 
children  must  also  be  attributed  to  economic  and  social  standards. 
Children  mean  expense  and  trouble  and  constant  attention  and 
"being  tied  down  at  home."  Many  people  in  the  city,  moreover, 
are  constantly  seeking  expensive  modes  of  enjoyment  —  frequent 
threatre  parties,  popular  cafe*  suppers,  automobiles,  and  a  dozen 
other  things  they  cannot  afford.  If  the  average  mercantile  employee, 
no  matter  whether  he  is  well  paid  or  not,  can  only  ape  the  manners 
and  habits  of  the  rich,  he  thinks  he  is  having  a  good  time.  The 
trouble  lies  in  the  fact  that  so  many  people  have  false  standards 
and  do  not  know  how  to  get  lasting  enjoyment  out  of  the  money 
they  earn.  The  consequence  is  seen  in  row  on  row  of  apartment- 


1 62        THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

houses  filled  with  childless  couples,  in  the  considerable  number  of 
such  couples  in  lodging-houses,  and  in  the  surprisingly  large  prac- 
tice enjoyed  by  the  particular  class  of  medical  specialists  who  some- 
times figure  in  criminal  cases. 

But  the  standard  does  not  always  act  in  this  doubly  deplorable 
way.  Absence  of  children  may  be  noted  in  sections  of  middle-class 
society  where  even  the  most  Puritanical  critic  of  wants  and  their 
satisfaction  could  not  bring  a  charge  of  economic  Philistinism. 
Reference  is  made,  of  course,  to  that  large  number  of  persons  who 
do  not  feel  that  they  ought  to  bring  children  into  the  world  to  whom 
they  cannot  give  education  and  opportunities  conforming  to  con- 
stantly heightening  standards.  Moreover,  standards  of  living  have 
become  legitimately  higher  than  they  were  formerly.  Income  that 
used  to  go  to  buy  food  for  a  dozen  hungry  mouths  now  goes  for  food 
plus  other  things,  for  a  smaller  number.  Nor  can  we  doubt  seriously 
that  so  long  as  the  number  is  not  reduced  beyond  reason,  and  so 
long  as  false,  purely  imitative  standards  of  expenditure  are  not  set 
up,  the  aggregate  happiness  will  be  greater.  The  danger  in  the  pro- 
cess of  a  rising  standard  of  living  lies  precisely  in  the  fact  that  it 
may  change  from  a  family  standard  to  an  individual  standard.  The 
very  advantages  of  city  life  tend  to  make  this  danger  all  the  more 
acute.  Modern  ways  of  living  call  forth  individual  wants  undreamed 
of  by  our  fathers  and  mothers.  We  demand  as  necessities  things 
which  even  a  few  years  ago  would  have  been  expensive  luxuries. 
The  existence  of  good  theatres,  of  good  music,  and  of  all  the  multi- 
form means  of  recreation,  enjoyment,  and  improvement  in  the  mod- 
ern city  tends  to  render  the  individual  selfish  and  self-centred,  and 
to  emphasize  the  individual  life  at  the  expense  of  that  of  the  family 
and  the  home.  And  it  is  not  yet  proved  that  the  individual,  rather 
than  home  and  family,  is  the  unit  upon  which  the  solidarity  of  the 
state  and  society  rests.1  The  lodging-class  is  exposed  more  than  any 

1  "  There  are  increasing  reasons  for  fearing  that  while  the  progress  of  medical  sci- 
ence and  sanitation  is  saving  from  death  a  continually  increasing  number  of  children 
of  those  who  are  feeble  physically  and  mentally,  many  of  those  who  are  most  thought- 
ful and  best  endowed  with  energy,  enterprise,  and  self-control  are  tending  to  defer 
their  marriages  and  in  other  ways  to  limit  the  number  of  children  whom  they  leave 
behind  them.  The  motive  is  sometimes  selfish,  and  perhaps  it  is  best  that  hard  and 
frivolous  people  should  have  but  few  descendants  of  their  own  type.  But  more  often 
it  is  desire  to  secure  a  good  social  position  for  their  children."  — •  Marshall,  Princi- 
ples of  Economics,  p.  281. 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  MARRIAGE  163 

other,  perhaps,  to  the  danger  of  this  individualization  of  stand- 
ard. 

Certain  moral  influences  cooperate  with  the  economic  and  social 
causes  to  render  the  lodger  slow  in  marrying.  The  prevalence  of 
prostitution,  of  temporary  and  informal  unions,  and  of  general 
looseness  of  moral  texture  in  the  lodging-house  world  has  been 
considered  elsewhere.  Can  we  doubt  that  all  this  has  a  direct  and 
baneful  influence  upon  the  lodger's  attitude  toward  the  marriage 
tie  ?  Economic  and  social  conditions  determine  the  number  of  illicit 
unions,  but  once  formed  they  become  immoral  forces  tending  in- 
definitely to  postpone  marriage,  or  to  dispense  with  it  in  toto,  and  to 
debase  the  ideals  of  a  holy  and  spiritual  union  into  those  of  tem- 
porary passion  and  economic  expediency.  The  general  psychological 
attitude  of  the  lodger  toward  marriage,  home,  and  family  undergoes 
a  change,  or  develops  under  distorting  influences.  Indifference, 
inertia,  and  cold,  hard,  calculating  cynicism  are  too  often  the  pro- 
ducts. The  general  absence  of  any  family  life  with  which  the  lodger 
may  come  in  daily  or  even  occasional  contact  removes  the  influence 
of  imitation,  which  is  so  often  the  motive  power  to  action;  and  the 
lodging-house  world  continues  to  ingraft  habits  and  habitual  view- 
points which  the  individual  will  not  easily  outgrow. 

When  the  lodger  does  take  the  step  of  marriage,  where  does  he 
go  to  live?  Usually  the  couple  continue  to  live  in  lodgings,  but 
invariably  they  move  to  another  house  from  the  one  in  which  they 
were  married.  The  coming  of  the  first  child,  which,  it  may  be,  is 
deferred  as  long  as  possible,  as  a  rule  takes  them  from  the  lodging- 
house  into  more  commodious  quarters.  In  two  minutes  a  minister 
of  the  South  End  enumerated  to  the  writer  nearly  thirty  lodging- 
house  couples  of  his  acquaintance  who  have  been  married  from 
three  to  five  years  and  are  still  childless.  We  need  not  be  surprised, 
then,  at  the  comparatively  large  numbers  of  married  couples  to  be 
found  in  lodging-houses.  Here  again  enters  the  standard  of  living. 
It  is  a  shock  to  the  pride  to  move  from  a  lodging-house  to  even  a 
model  tenement-house.  It  is  much  easier  to  board  at  a  dining-room 
or  cafe*  than  to  keep  house.  In  the  lodging-district  we  are  near  the 
heart  of  the  city;  when  we  are  married  and  have  children  we  have 
to  move  out  to  nobody  knows  where.  Metropolitan  Boston  is 
unique,  among  the  cities  known  to  the  writer,  in  having  scattered 


1 64       THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

by  the  hundred  all  through  its  outlying  districts  frame  apartment- 
houses,  between  which  and  frame  tenement- houses  there  is  no  dis- 
tinct line  of  cleavage.  Some  are  in  first- class  districts  with  pleasant 
surroundings  and  high  rental  charges,  but  between  these  and  the 
grimy  three-story  frame  tenement  on  some  muddy  side  street  where 
dirty  children  swarm  and  the  hurdy-gurdy  grinds  in  the  blare  of  the 
sun,  there  is  a  continuous  series.  Somewhere  in  this  series,  unless 
they  go  out  still  farther  into  the  suburban  districts  and  rent  a  cot- 
tage, the  couple  will  have  to  settle.  When  they  do  move  it  is  gen- 
erally to  this  "outer  limbo,"  where  in  a  short  time  they  become 
indistinguishable  from  the  rest  of  the  population,  and  doubtless 
wish  they  had  come  from  the  lodging-house  sooner.  Their  reluc- 
tance to  make  the  change,  we  think,  must  be  attributed  in  large 
measure  to  two  chief  causes,  —  dislike  of  housework,  and  fear  of 
dropping  down  in  the  social  scale. 

The  writer  would  not  be  misunderstood,  in  what  is  said  above 
concerning  the  probable  tendencies  of  the  lodging-house  to  lower 
the  marriage-  and  birth-rate,  to  imply  that  such  a  reduction  is  neces- 
sarily and  absolutely  an  evil.  He  can  conceive  of  conditions  under 
which  the  lower  birth-rate  and  the  general  disposition  to  limit  the 
size  of  families  might  be  taken  as  signs  of  increasing  enlightenment, 
and  is  not  one  of  those  who  constantly  cry  out  for  more  people 
and  a  higher  birth-rate,  without  regard  to  the  quality  of  either.  In 
recent  years  there  has  been,  even  in  this  country,  a  recrudescence  of 
the  old  Mercantilist  idea,  and  of  the  old  notion  of  Continental 
Officialdom,  that  a  great  population  is  the  one  and  only  basis  of 
national  prosperity.  At  the  bottom  of  this  notion  in  the  old  times 
lay  the  idea  that  a  large  population  is  the  basis  of  a  large  standing 
army,  and  of  increased  tax-receipts.  No  doubt  these  same  notions 
obtain  on  the  Continent  to-day,  and  it  would  be  interesting  to  ascer- 
tain how  far  they  form  a  sub- conscious  stimulus  to  the  present  cry 
in  America  for  earlier  marriages  and  larger  families.  But  the  real 
interests  of  the  country  and  of  society  demand  not  so  much  a  high 
birth-rate  in  general  as  a  higher  birth-rate  from  those  classes  which 
are  now  not  even  holding  their  own.  A  higher  sense  of  social  duty 
is  necessary  on  the  part  of  the  well-to-do  middle  class,  which  will 
make  them  see  that  upon  them,  above  all  others,  devolves  the  task 
of  maintaining  the  vitality  of  the  population.  Motives  which  now 


THE  PROBLEM  OF  MARRIAGE  165 

lead  to  very  small  families  or  to  none  at  all,  must  give  way  to  such 
as  will  render  the  child  a  welcome  comer,  and  its  rearing  and  edu- 
cation, in  the  broadest  sense  of  that  term,  a  task  and  pleasure  to  be 
turned  to  as  a  welcome  relief  from  the  mad  rush  after  great  wealth 
and  social  standing.  The  same  remarks  apply  to  the  highly  educated 
classes  as  well.  At  present,  as  every  one  knows,  the  high  birth-rate 
is  among  the  classes  least  equipped  for  the  rearing  of  children  likely 
to  prove  a  benefit  to  the  state,  while  the  low  birth-rates  are  among 
just  those  educated  and  well-to-do  people  who  inhabit  the  healthiest 
and  finest  portions  of  our  cities,  and  who  have  the  resources  for  the 
performance  of  a  duty  they  are  now  shirking. 

The  question  to  which  we  come  is  this:  Is  the  lodging-house 
population,  in  which  we  find  the  lowest  birth-rate  in  Boston,  apart 
from  the  conditions  which  surround  it,  the  kind  we  wish  to  see 
reproduce  itself  ?  The  answer,  we  think,  must  be  in  the  affirmative. 
For  we  must  remember  that  with  all  its  shortcomings  and  with  all 
the  dangers  and  evils  with  which  it  is  beset,  the  lodging-house  popu- 
lation is  still  appreciably  above  the  population  of  the  thickly  inhab- 
ited tenement-districts,  where  the  birth-rate  is  highest,  not  only  in 
physical  vitality,  but  in  education  and  ambition.  And  we  must 
remember  that  the  shortcomings  of  the  lodger  as  an  individual 
are  due  in  no  small  measure  to  the  conditions  in  which  he  lives  and 
from  which  marriage  and  the  coming  of  children  must  necessarily 
remove  him.  Considering  the  sources  and  the  character  of  the 
young  men  and  women  who  become  lodgers,  we  can  scarcely  ques- 
tion that  the  sooner  marriage  rescues  them  from  the  lodging-house 
world  and  its  sophisticating,  leveling,  and  contaminating  influences, 
the  better  it  will  be  both  for  the  individuals  and  for  society.  Moder- 
ate marriage-  and  birth-rates  in  the  classes  now  anchored  indefin- 
itely in  the  desolate  stretches  of  lodging-house  existence,  and  played 
upon  by  only  here  and  there  a  deceptive  little  flurry  of  recreation 
or  excitement,  would  not  only  increase  population  from  a  more 
desirable  source  than  now  furnishes  the  main  growth,  but  in  the 
long  run  would  result  in  a  higher  degree  of  social  vitality,  physical, 
mental,  and  moral. 

Whether  this  higher  marriage- rate  can  be  looked  for  in  the  near 
future  is  doubtful.  The  indispensable  prerequisite  for  it  is  better 
accommodation  for  young  couples  of  moderate  means,  in  the  shape 


1 66       THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

of  small,  low-priced  flats  and  apartments.  Fundamentally,  however, 
the  solution  of  these  questions  carries  us  far  afield.  Higher  wages 
for  the  mercantile  employee,  and  in  some  way  a  removal  of  the  hard, 
grinding  struggle  for  existence  at  his  customary  point  in  the  social 
scale,  and  of  the  more  demoralizing  social  evils  of  the  lodging-house 
world,  are  certainly  necessary  steps  to  any  lasting  improvement. 


CHAPTER   XVII 

SUMMARY  AND  CONCLUSION 

THE  problem  of  the  lodger  is  a  complex  of  many  problems,  due 
primarily,  as  we  saw  in  Chapter  I,  to  economic  and  social  causes 
of  far-reaching  character.  In  so  far  as  the  imperfect  data  at  our 
command  would  allow,  we  have  seen  the  nature  of  the  lodging-house 
world  into  which  these  social  and  economic  necessities  throw  so 
large  a  part  of  our  metropolitan  populations. 

There  will  always  be  a  lodging-  or  boarding-house  problem  of 
some  sort.  Enough  was  said  in  Chapter  i  to  make  it  clear  that 
modern  industrial  conditions  render  some  such  institution  an  eco- 
nomic necessity.  Men  can  no  longer  live  at  home  with  parents  or 
master  until  their  apprentice  years  are  past  and  they  are  ready  to 
settle  in  homes  of  their  own,  as  was,  ideally  at  least,  the  case  a  hun- 
dred, even  fifty  years  ago.  The  call  for  hands  and  brains  takes  them 
in  a  thousand  directions,  over  indefinite  distances,  in  an  infinite  net- 
work of  crossing  paths.  Without  doubt,  much  of  the  roaming  occa- 
sioned by  modern  industry  is  unnecessary,  but  it  cannot  be  helped. 
Men  and  women  will  go  where  employment  is,  to  a  great  extent 
regardless  of  home  ties.  Indeed,  to  some  degree,  the  individual's 
native  locality  is  without  honor  in  his  mind.  The  old  adage  is 
reversed.  The  prophet  refuses  to  honor  his  own  country.  Other 
cities  and  other  commonwealths  look  more  attractive  to  him. 

To  economic  necessity,  therefore,  must  be  added  social,  and 
certain  subtle  psychological  forces,  all  conspiring  to  produce  the 
peculiar  restlessness,  the  gregariousness,  the  nomadism,  characteris- 
tic of  the  modern  American  populace.  It  is  a  population  which 
moves  rapidly  with  no  impedimenta  save  a  valise  and  a  trunk.  It  is 
fortunate  for  the  nomad  that  shelter  is  offered ;  fortunate,  too,  for 
the  landlady  that  he  comes;  and  fortunate  for  the  landlord  that  she 
stands  ready  to  undertake  the  business. 

A  district  like  the  South  End  lodging-house  section  is  the  product 
of  three  forces  —  this  restless  flow  of  people  to  the  city  from  the 


1 68       THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

country  and  from  city  to  city;  the  intra-urban  migration  of  city 
populations  from  district  to  district,  leaving  thus  an  area  of  old 
houses;  and  the  drifting  in  of  widows,  thrifty  young  couples,  and 
people  of  broken  fortune  to  open  the  deserted  houses  to  the  lodger, 
in  answer  to  his  demand  for  shelter. 

A  lodging-house  district  so  produced  has  a  definite  situation  and 
boundary,  and  within  these  boundaries  we  have  the  external  en- 
vironment of  the  lodger. 

Such  statistical  data  as  are  available  show  that  in  Boston  the 
boarding-house  is  practically  extinct,  and  that  it  is  being  displaced 
by  the  lodging-house  in  many  other  cities  throughout  the  country. 
The  probable  causes  of  this  movement  lie  largely  in  the  advantages 
of  the  cafe*  over  the  boarding-house,  and  in  the  greater  freedom  of 
life  in  the  lodging-house. 

The  character  of  the  landladies  varies  greatly.  It  determines  in 
no  small  measure  the  conditions  of  life  for  the  lodger,  and  in  turn 
is  reacted  upon  strongly  by  forces  largely  beyond  the  landlady's 
control.  Her  economic  position  is  precarious  and  her  effort  to  make 
both  ends  meet  is  a  prominent  cause  for  the  existence  of  immoral 
tendencies.  She  is  product  of  hard  circumstances,  one  whose  life 
is  as  isolated  and  monotonous  as  that  of  many  of  her  lodgers.  She 
is,  moreover,  often  the  prey  of  various  sorts  of  sharpers,  chief  of 
whom  is  the  "real  estate"  agent  who  sells  her  lodging-house  furni- 
ture and  good- will  at  exorbitant  rates  and  ensnares  her  in  the  toils 
of  installment  payments  and  mortgages. 

The  real-estate  situation  lies  back  of  the  landlady's  economic 
struggle,  and  constitutes  an  element  in  the  economic  and  moral 
problem  of  the  lodger.  While  an  enormous  depreciation  in  the 
value  of  South  End  real  estate  has  taken  place,  the  present  owners 
are  probably  receiving  a  fair  return  on  their  investment.  Never- 
theless the  fact  that  the  depreciation  has  taken  place,  and  is  still 
probably  going  on  to  some  extent,  renders  the  average  landlord 
penurious  in  making  repairs  and  stringent  in  exacting  the  highest 
rent  obtainable.  The  burden  thus  laid  upon  the  landlady  is  partly 
transferred  to  the  lodger  in  the  shape  of  high  room- rents,  and  to 
the  public  in  loosened  moral  conditions. 

The  lodgers  themselves  are  characterized  primarily  by  four 
qualities:  (i)  the  tendency  to  move  frequently  —  the  nomad  pro- 


SUMMARY  AND  CONCLUSION  169 

pensity,  (2)  isolation  of  the  individual,  (3)  heterogeneity,  and  (4) 
the  economic  struggle  which  in  general  they  are  making  —  rela- 
tive poverty.  By  occupation  they  are  largely  mercantile  employees 
and  skilled  mechanics,  but  there  is  a  larger  percentage  of  profes- 
sional men  and  women  than  we  should  expect.  There  is  among 
them  some  tendency  to  geographical  grouping  by  occupation,  enough 
to  lend  a  characteristic  tone  to  different  localities  within  the  dis- 
trict, but  probably  not  enough  to  present  any  very  effective  social 
bond. 

A  striking  connection  is  noticeable  between  the  lodging-house 
and  the  vital  statistics  of  the  city.  The  lodging-house  tends  to  in- 
crease the  density  of  population,  while  nevertheless  few  children 
are  to  be  found  in  the  lodging-house  district  which  has  the  lowest 
birth-rate  of  any  in  the  city  —  lower,  in  fact,  than  the  lowest  death- 
rate  of  any  ward  in  the  city.  It  follows  that  the  lodging-house 
population  is  not  reproducing  itself,  and  probably  that  it  has  a  low 
marriage- rate.  The  question  of  the  influence  of  the  lodging-house 
in  postponing  marriage  was  discussed  in  Chapter  xvi  and  certain 
dark  phases  of  lodging-house  life  were  outlined  in  Chapter  xv. 
It  is  not  necessary  to  review  these  chapters  here. 

Our  task  is  in  a  sense  finished,  for  it  is  perhaps  not  within  our 
province  to  suggest  solutions  for  a  problem  so  difficult  and  one  for 
which,  undoubtedly,  no  single  solution  can  be  found.  We  tnist, 
however,  that  it  is  evident  to  the  reader  whose  patience  has  lasted 
through  these  pages  that  the  lodging-house  question  is  a  moral 
problem,  the  permanent  solution  of  which,  if  any  there  be,  must 
lie  in  attacking  the  social  and  economic  conditions  which  produce 
it,  conditions  which  lie  far  beyond  the  narrow  limits  of  the  lodging- 
house  district  itself  or  even  of  the  city  as  a  whole.  Before  we  indi- 
cate the  changes  which  seem  needful  in  these  broader  conditions, 
we  will  note  a  few  remedial  measures  within  the  district  itself,  some 
of  which  should  be  taken  at  once,  while  others  would  be  equally 
desirable  could  a  way  be  found  to  bring  them  about. 

First  of  all  the  general  public  should  be  taught  something  of  the 
conditions.  Both  as  a  help  in  turning  attention  to  the  problem  and 
to  secure  very  much  needed  exact  statistical  data,  the  State  Bureau 
of  Statistics  of  Labor  should  be  empowered  to  make  a  comprehen- 
sive investigation.  A  special  appropriation  should  be  made  by  the 


1 70       THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

Legislature  for  this  purpose;   more  than  ordinary  return  would  be 
reaped  for  the  time  and  money  invested. 

In  the  mean  time  a  movement  which  has  already  been  started 
in  a  small  way  to  organize  an  effective  public  sentiment  among  the 
landladies  of  the  district  should  be  pushed  faithfully  and  untiringly. 
Much  can  be  done  toward  actual  improvement  of  conditions  if  the 
better  class  of  lodging-house  keepers  can  gradually  be  brought  into 
friendly  discussion  and  cooperation.  This  might  result  eventually 
in  formal  organization  as  an  "improvement  league."  The  writer 
believes  the  reputable  landladies,  as  soon  as  they  understand  the 
motive  and  nature  of  such  a  movement,  would  be  willing  and  eager 
to  affiliate  themselves  with  it.  With  such  an  organization  once 
under  way  effective  discussions  could  be  brought  to  bear  on  ways 
and  means  of  improving  the  external  environment  of  the  lodger. 
Attention  should  be  directed  to  such  small  economies  and  con- 
veniences as  hot  water  and  towel  supply,  adequate  bath-room 
facilities,  methods  of  keeping  a  house  clean  and  fresh,  the  kind  of 
furniture  to  buy,  etc.  Gradually  the  burdensome  legacy  of  old  days 
—  the  plush  rocker  and  the  dusty,  thick  carpets  and  hangings,  the 
folding-bed  and  the  worn  rugs  —  might  be  relegated  to  the  junk 
dealer,  and  light,  clean  iron  beds,  painted  floors  with  clean  rugs 
and  mattings,  and  furniture  at  once  clean,  durable,  and  attractive 
could  be  introduced.1  Gradually,  also,  landlords  might  be  brought 
to  make  more  liberal  provision  for  repairs  and  for  improvement 
in  the  external  appearance  of  the  district;  and  the  run-down-in- 
the-heel  look  now  so  prevalent  might  pass  away.  Of  more  vital 
importance,  however,  would  be  the  influence  such  an  organization 
might  exert  in  gradually  clarifying  the  moral  atmosphere  of  the 
district.  A  room  registry  run  on  disinterested  principles  has  been 
started  by  the  South  End  House,  and  through  it  the  attempt  is 
being  made  to  secure  the  cooperation  of  landladies  in  requiring  re- 
ferences from  their  lodgers.  A  hard  struggle  will  have  to  be  made 
before  it  is  on  a  sure  basis,  but  such  attempts  should  not  be  lightly 
given  up.  The  room  registry  and  the  improvement  league  should 
be  parts  of  the  same  organization.  Gradually  through  it  attention 

1  Some  interesting  remarks  on  lodging-house  furniture  and  landladies'  ideas  may 
be  found  in  a  short  article  entitled  "  Furnished  Lodgings,"  in  the  Living  Age  for 
May,  1904,  pp.  380-382. 


SUMMARY  AND  CONCLUSION  171 

could  be  brought  to  the  real-estate  sharks  who  prey  upon  inno- 
cent people  by  selling  them  lodging-house  furniture  and  good-will 
at  double  rates,  and  by  all  manner  of  chicanery  and  treachery  cheat 
them  out  of  their  hard-earned  money.  Enough  evidence  could  be 
collected  in  a  short  time  to  convict  more  than  one  of  these  sharp- 
ers. 

Calling  most  of  all  for  instant  action  is  the  connection  that  un- 
doubtedly exists  between  the  lodging-house  and  prostitution.  The 
contamination  of  young  men,  the  deterioration  in  the  modesty  and 
morality  of  young  women,  the  existence  of  actual  houses  of  prosti- 
tution in  the  guise  of  lodging-houses,  the  laxity  of  landladies,  the 
large  number  of  informal  unions,  the  general  loosening  of  moral 
texture,  —  these  things  cannot  be  looked  upon  impassively.  Nor 
can  the  actual  criminal  tendencies  that  the  lodging-house  may  pro- 
duce in  the  individual  be  overlooked.  The  remedy  for  these  evils 
will  not  soon  be  found.  Police  and  courts  and  public  sentiment 
must  apply  remedies  which  must  be  found  by  patient,  scientific 
research  and  experiment.  So  long  as  there  is  prostitution,  on  the 
one  hand,  and  grinding  economic  struggle  on  the  other,  we  may 
look  to  see  the  record  of  the  lodging-house  suicide  and  homicide 
continue. 

Obviously  one  of  the  first  things  to  be  done  toward  wiping  out 
the  conditions  which  give  us  this  darkest  aspect  of  the  lodging-house 
is  to  require  every  house  to  have  a  public  parlor.  It  may  be  objected 
that  the  landlady  cannot  afford  it.  She  must,  then,  either  charge 
more  for  her  rooms  —  an  undesirable  step  —  or  the  landlord  must 
reduce  his  rent.  The  reform  is  so  palpably  necessary  that  the  eco- 
nomic changes  it  might  necessitate  must  be  left  to  look  after  them- 
selves. A  public  parlor  would  not  in  itself  cure  all  abuses  or  solve 
the  moral  problem  of  the  lodging-house,  but  it  would  dispense 
with  the  custom  and  necessity  of  taking  callers  to  rooms,  and  would 
thus  abolish  one  great  excuse  and  opportunity  for  immoral  asso- 
ciations and  conduct.1  Whether,  as  some  have  suggested,  this  re- 

1  "  The  most  important  necessity  of  the  model  working-woman's  hotel  or  lodging- 
house  would  be,  not  a  luxurious  table,  not  a  dainty  sleeping-room,  but  a  parlor!  The 
number  of  young  girls  who  go  wrong  in  a  great  city  like  this  for  want  of  the  various 
necessities  of  a  parlor  must  make  the  angels  in  heaven  weep.  The  houses  where  the 
poorly-paid  girl  lives  have  no  accommodations  for  the  entertainment  of  her  male 
friends.  If  the  house  is  conducted  with  any  respect  for  the  conventions,  the  girl-lodger 


THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

form  and  other  needed  regulations  could  best  be  brought  about  by 
a  law  requiring  that  every  lodging-house  should  be  licensed  and 
inspected,  the  writer  is  not  ready  to  say.  If  no  other  way  can  be 
found,  the  license  act  should  be  passed  and  enforced.  As  said 
before,  community  of  interest  and  public  sentiment  on  the  part  of 
the  better  class  of  landladies  can  do  much,  and  perhaps  without 
such  common  feeling  and  action  not  much  can  be  accomplished 
by  external  authority. 

In  many  ways  the  general  opportunities  open  to  lodgers  should 
be  increased.  Those  that  already  exist,  some  of  which  we  men- 
tioned in  Chapter  xm,  should  be  made  more  widely  known  to 
lodgers,  and  others  should  be  added.  A  city  bath-house  and  a  gym- 
nasium should  be  erected  near  the  centre  of  the  district;  two  or 
three  more  public  reading-rooms  should  be  established;  and  per- 
haps above  all  some  organization  should  be  perfected  to  adver- 
tise to  the  lodger  the  great  advantages  of  the  city  and  its  beautiful 
surroundings  —  opportunities  for  rest,  recreation,  amusement,  and 
improvement,  free  to  all  who  know  of  them  and  can  afford  the  small 
expense  of  reaching  them.1  No  city  in  the  country  has  so  magni- 
ficent a  system  of  outer  parks  and  reservations  as  has  Boston  — 
thanks  to  Charles  Eliot,  a  true  lover  of  nature  and  a  benefactor  of 
the  people,  and  to  a  public-spirited  and  progressive  Metropolitan 
Park  Commission.  No  other  city  of  the  country  possesses  the  Charles 
River,  the  Blue  Hills,  the  Middlesex  Fells,  the  Lynn  Woods,  or  the 
magnificent  variety  and  extent  of  seashore  within  half  an  hour's 
ride.  But  the  common  people  in  great  measure  have  yet  to  learn 
and  appreciate  all  this,  and  to  take  advantage  of  the  opportunities 
offered.  The  average  dweller  of  the  tenement  or  the  lodging-house 

must  meet  her  young  man  on  the  '  stoop '  or  on  the  street  corner.  As  the  courtship 
progresses,  they  must  have  recourse  either  to  the  benches  of  the  public  parks,  pro- 
vided the  weather  be  favorable,  or  else  to  the  light  and  warmth  of  the  back  room  of 
a  saloon.  The  average  cheap  lodging-house  is  usually  conducted,  however,  with  but 
scant  regard  for  the  conventions,  and  the  girl  usually  is  forced  to  adopt  the  more 
convenient,  and  as  it  would  seem  to  her,  really  more  self-respecting  habit  of  receiving 
her  company  in  her  room.  And  either  one  of  these  methods  of  courtship,  it  is  evident, 
cannot  but  be  in  the  end  demoralizing  and  degrading  to  thoughtless  young  people,  how- 
ever innocent  they  may  be  of  any  deliberate  wrong-doing."  The  Long  Day,  pp.  287-288. 
1  The  American  Institute  of  Social  Service,  287  Fourth  Avenue,  New  York,  has 
issued  "a  practical  handbook  to  the  resources  and  progress  of  New  York"  called 
The  Better  New  York  (copyright,  1904),  with  this  special  end  in  view. 


SUMMARY  AND  CONCLUSION  173 

has  about  as  much  elasticity  as  a  brick.  There  is  in  each  a  tremen- 
dous amount  of  inertia  to  be  overcome.  But  it  must  be  overcome, 
and  the  lodger  must  be  got  out  into  the  open  air  in  summer-time 
and  autumn,  and  in  winter  to  church,  —  a  church  which  will  show 
some  vital  interest  in,  and  knowledge  of,  his  needs,  —  to  lecture 
and  concert,  and  to  a  good  theatre,  —  endowed,  if  we  can  have  it 
no  other  way.  And,  if  it  be  not  heresy  to  say  so,  bring  back  the 
bicycle,  now  cheap  enough  to  be  within  the  reach  of  those  who 
need  it  most,  and  create,  too,  an  interest  in  that  athletic  and  edu- 
cative pastime,  walking,  —  walking  in  the  fields  and  parks.  In 
a  word,  advertise  to  the  lodger  a  little  of  the  salt  of  life,  that  the  stale 
flatness  of  his  existence  may  at  least  be  a  little  disguised. 

The  isolation  of  the  lodger's  life  and  the  insufferable  monotony  and 
dreariness  of  it  must  in  some  such  composite  manner  be  removed. 
The  individual  must  be  put  into  a  more  real  and  healthy  touch  with 
himself  and  his  environment.  At  every  possible  vantage-point,  the 
artificiality  and  deceptive  sham  of  lodging-house  life  —  the  false 
freedom  of  lodging-house  irresponsibility  must  be  attacked.  When 
such  movements  are  started  and  begin  to  be  effective,  we  may  look 
for  more  permanence  of  abode  on  the  part  of  the  lodger,  and  the 
"population  nomade"  may  cease  increasing  at  so  rapid  a  rate.1 
The  lodger,  not  wishing  then  to  move  every  other  month,  may  be 
willing  and  able  to  acquire,  say,  a  few  books  and  a  piece  or  two  of 
furniture;  and  perhaps  in  some  unconscious  manner  a  better  home 
than  a  lonely  room  on  the  third  floor  of  some  lodging-house  may  sug- 
gest itself.  In  all  these  ways,  too,  the  lodger  must  be  given  more  of 
the  personal  element  in  life.  In  the  academic  world  there  is  the  com- 
panionship and  personal  touch  with  books,  and  to  a  certain  extent 
—  unfortunately  too  slight  —  with  men  and  women;  in  the  world 
of  business  and  industry  there  is  contact  with  men,  but  not  with 
books;  in  the  lodging-house  too  often  there  is  neither.  The  lodg- 
ing-house perhaps  stands  for  the  latest  step  in  the  progressive  loss 

1  "  Ce  developpement  de  la  population  nomade  est  le  point  le  plus  important  peut- 
£tre  de  ce  que  Ton  appelle  la  question  sociale.  A  de"faut  de  proprie^  terrienne,  il  est 
bon  de  posseder  au  moins  sa  maison;  a  defaut  encore  de  cette  propriet£  plus  re"pan- 
due,  il  y  a  une  propri^t6  rudimentaire,  essentielle  dont  tout  individu  devrait  jouir, 
qu'il  devrait  avoir  le  desir  et  les  moyens  de  se  procurer  et  de  conserver;  c'est  la  pro- 
priete  de  ses  meubles,  de  son  lit,  de  sa  table  et  de  tout  qui  forme  le  mobilier  le  plus 
simple."  —  Leroy-Beaulieu,  Repartition  des  Richesses,  pp.  214,  215. 


174       THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

of  the  personal  element  in  life  which  we  seem  to  have  suffered.  In- 
dustry expands  and  employer  and  employee  lose  touch  with  each 
other.  The  college  grows  into  a  university,  and  despite  the  many 
compensatory  advantages,  the  mass  of  the  students  are  deprived  of 
much  of  that  close  relation  with  the  instructor  as  above  all  a  teacher 
and  friend,  which  is  so  effective  an  element  in  education.  Social 
customs  crystallize,  and  mistress  and  maid  become  as  two  isolated 
beings,  void  of  personality  to  each  other.  And  finally  the  lodging- 
house  supplants  the  boarding-house,  and  the  lodger  is  deprived  of 
even  the  slender  personal  connections  it  afforded  him. 

There  are  also  sweeping  reforms  that  should  be  made  in  the 
lodgers'  broader  physical  environment. 

Perhaps  it  is  too  much  to  expect,  for  a  long  time  to  come,  any 
broad  improvement  in  the  eating  facilities  of  the  district,  but  such 
improvement  is  sorely  needed.  The  food  served  in  the  cafe's,  as  a 
rule,  and  in  the  $3. 50- a- week  basement  dining-rooms,  is  neither  of 
the  right  quality  nor  of  the  right  preparation  to  sustain  the  labor- 
efficiency  of  the  lodger.  The  opportunity  exists  for  some  persons 
of  means  and  philanthropically  disposed  to  establish  two  or  three 
large,  modern  restaurants  in  the  district,  and  do  the  population  a 
great  service,  without  in  the  long  run  losing  anything  on  their 
investment.  The  writer  sees  no  reason  why  a  really  large  eating- 
establishment,  capable  of  catering  to  at  least  one  thousand  persons 
for  breakfast  and  dinner,  should  not  be  able  to  earn  fair  interest  on 
the  investment,  if  run  on  scientific  and  business-like  lines,  and  at  the 
same  time  give  the  South  End  lodger  much  better  fare  and  service 
than  he  gets  now.  The  economies  of  large-scale  productions  should 
enable  this  to  be  done.  Of  course  there  would  be  the  difficulties  of 
finding  a  central  location  and  a  large  enough  building,  or  site  for 
building,  but  difficulties  are  overcome  in  the  business  world  and  there 
is  no  reason  why  they  should  not  be  in  the  philanthropic.  But  the 
undertaking  would  have  to  be  a  large  one,  backed  by  capital.  The 
advantages  it  would  give  the  lodger  are  obvious:  first  of  all,  good 
food,  well  cooked  and  well  served,  at  rates  not  higher  than  he  is 
paying  now  in  the  struggling,  ill-managed,  little  dining-rooms  and 
cafe's;  secondly,  more  congenial  surroundings  at  meal- times  —  a 
large  and  airy,  well- lighted,  and  not  architecturally  ugly  hall,  in- 
stead of  a  hot  cafe"-room  inhabited  by  swarms  of  flies  and  tousle- 


SUMMARY  AND  CONCLUSION  175 

headed  waitresses;  thirdly,  a  chance  for  some  friendly  intercourse 
at  meal-times.  It  would  be  possible  to  have  "club-tables"  just  as 
students  do  in  college  commons.  Were  there  smoking-rooms  and 
the  like  added,  for  the  use  of  which  a  small  additional  weekly  or 
monthly  due  might  be  charged,  the  establishment  would  have  many 
of  the  attributes  of  a  club-house,  and  it  would  furnish  more  than 
one  avenue  by  which  social  betterment  could  enter  the  South  End. 
Could  we  have  a  few  such  large,  liberally  managed  eating-halls, 
and  at  the  same  time  could  the  present  system  of  lodging-houses 
be  reformed  by  the  introduction  of  public  parlors,  better  sanitary 
resources,  and  an  enlightened  moral  opinion  on  the  part  of  both 
landladies  and  lodgers,  there  would  be  no  necessity  for  wishing  to 
do  away  with  the  lodging-house  and  bring  back  again  the  board- 
ing-house. In  the  absence  of  such  reforms,  we  are  inclined  to  be- 
lieve that  the  boarding-house,  with  all  its  imperfections,  its  oftentimes 
ill-cooked  and  insufficient  food,  its  intrigue,  its  vulgarity,  would 
prove  in  the  long  run  a  better  way  of  living  than  the  present  lodg- 
ing-and-cafe*  system.  It  is  not  likely,  however,  that  the  boarding- 
house  will  come  back  spontaneously  —  the  drift  is  the  other  way, 
as  we  saw  —  nor  is  it  probable  that  it  can  be  reintroduced  generally 
by  any  combination  of  philanthropic  and  social  forces  likely  to  be 
available.  The  reform  of  the  lodging-houses  on  the  one  hand,  and 
of  the  eating  facilities  on  the  other,  seems  to  the  writer  much  more 
practical  and  feasible  than  any  plan  looking  toward  the  abolition 
of  the  lodging-house.  Given  our  modern  American  economic  and 
industrial  organization,  drawing  in  its  wake  the  constant  change 
of  residence,  the  constant  drifting  and  shifting  to  which  we  as  a 
people  are  subject,  the  lodging-house  is  a  necessary  form  of  habi- 
tation. Capital  has  made  model  lodging-houses  pay.  Presumably 
the  Mills  Hotels  for  working-men  in  New  York,  which  are  well 
known  to  every  one  who  takes  the  slightest  interest  in  the  housing 
question,  are  yielding  a  fair  return  on  the  investment.1  Why  could 

1  At  least  this  was  the  intention  of  their  owner.  In  his  address  delivered  at  the 
opening  of  the  Bleecker  Street  Hotel,  Nov.  i,  1897,  Mr.  Mills  said:  "Let  me  make 
clear,  however,  at  the  outset  that  it  is  in  no  sense  a  charitable  concern.  .  .  .  Mills 
Hotel  No.  i  will  differ  from  the  ordinary  lodging-house  most  of  all  in  its  effort  to  give 
the  man  what  he  pays  for  —  the  very  fullest  possible  equivalent  for  his  money.  But 
it  is  the  intention,  from  the  very  beginning,  to  conduct  the  enterprise  upon  a  business 
basis;  and  this  implies  that  it  will  be  self-supporting.  .  .  .  No  patron  of  the  Mills 


176       THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

not  a  like  fair  return  be  made  on  investment  in  large  eating-halls, 
and  in  similar  hotels  in  Boston? 

No  permanent  solution  of  the  lodging-house  question  can  be 
looked  for,  can  even  be  approached,  for  a  long  time  to  come,  un- 
less some  such  action  is  taken,  unless,  in  other  words,  very  broad 
changes  are  made  in  the  lodger's  environment.  The  lodger  will 
continue  to  exist  and  demand  accommodations.  Educative  pro- 
cesses taking  a  long  time  to  institute,  starting  far  out  beyond  the 
lodging-house  district  or  the  city,  and  working  their  effects  out  only 
very  gradually  may  change  the  character  of  the  lodger;  but  that 
is  neither  here  nor  now,  and  even  if  it  does  take  place  within  the 
next  quarter  century  it  will  still  be  working  against  the  adverse 
current  of  lodging-house  environment  and  its  influence.  The 
present  kind  of  environment  must  be  in  large  measure  destroyed. 
No  single  line  of  reform  will  do  this.  The  establishment  of  work- 
ing-women's and  working-men's  hotels  and  of  large  eating-estab- 
lishments (all  on  a  paying  basis),  the  general  institution  of  a  public 
parlor,  the  abolition,  so  far  as  possible,  of  prostitution  from  the  dis- 
trict, the  introduction  of  model  lodging-houses  of  the  ordinary  size, 
and  of  model  boarding-houses  for  such  as  prefer  that  type  of  habi- 
tation, —  all  these  are  not  too  much  to  hope  for,  nor  is  any  one 
superfluous  if  it  can  be  had. 

The  establishment  of  philanthropical  hotels  for  working-girls, 
however,  is  fraught  with  certain  danger.  There  is  a  comparatively 
large  number  of  these  establishments  in  Boston  already,  and  re- 
cently one  of  the  largest  experiments  of  the  kind  ever  tried  has  been 
inaugurated.  In  almost  every  instance,  we  believe,  these  "homes" 
or  "hotels"  or  "houses"  are  not  self-supporting,  that  is,  the  guests 
or  "  inmates"  do  not  pay  for  all  they  get.  The  last  large  experiment 
pays  all  running  expenses,  but  does  not  pay  the  interest  on  the  in- 
vestment in  building  and  plant.  This  has  to  be  covered  by  private 
subscription,  notwithstanding  that  the  girls  and  women  living  there 
belong  very  largely  to  the  better- paid  mercantile  employments. 
No  amount  of  circumlocution  or  euphemism  will  disguise  the  fact 

Hotel  will  receive  more  than  he  pays  for,  unless  it  be  my  hearty  good  will  and  good 
wishes.  .  .  .  He  will  think  better  of  himself  and  will  be  a  more  self-reliant,  manly 
man,  and  a  better  citizen,  if  he  knows  that  he  is  honestly  paying  for  what  he  gets." 
—  Municipal  Affairs,  March,  1899,  pp.  85-87;  see  also  p.  106. 


SUMMARY  AND  CONCLUSION  177 

that  all  such  houses  are  a  form  of  charity,  to  a  greater  or  less  ex- 
tent. Some  such  establishments  are  undoubtedly  necessary  in  every 
large  city,  to  take  care  of  girls  who  are  caught  temporarily  in  straight- 
ened circumstances.  But  the  girl  ought  not  to  be  led  to  think  she 
is  fully  paying  her  own  way  when  she  is  not.  There  could  be  but 
one  effect  of  a  multiplication  of  non-self-supporting  working-girls' 
homes  above  this  minimum.  It  would  tend  to  lower,  or  at  least  to 
keep  down  to  their  present  level  (subsidiary- wage  basis),  the  wages 
of  female  labor.  A  large  amount  of  female  labor  is  already  paid 
on  that  basis,  —  on  the  idea  that  the  girl  lives  at  home  and  does 
not  have  to  pay  full  board ;  or  that,  if  she  is  a  married  woman,  her 
husband  is  earning  the  main  income;  or  perhaps  that  she  is  helped 
by  a  "friend."  And  a  "home"  or  boarding-house  of  any  kind, 
where  she  can  get  bed  and  food  for  less  than  ordinary  normal  or 
market  cost,  is  simply  one  more  basis  and  excuse  for  the  payment 
and  for  the  acceptance  of  wages  below  a  fair  living  standard.  It 
is  perfectly  possible,  however,  to  establish  large  and  well-equipped 
working-women's  and  working-men's  hotels  on  a  sound,  paying 
financial  basis.  It  has  been  done  both  in  this  country  and  abroad, 
and  it  can  be  done  in  Boston.  All  such  enterprises,  parallel  to  the 
Mills  Hotels  of  New  York,  should  be  welcomed,  as  they  will  neither 
in  the  slightest  way  detract  from  a  man's  or  woman's  self-respect, 
nor  endanger  the  living  standard  of  wages.1 

1  The  following  will  he  found  valuable  references  on  the  subject  of  working-girls' 
homes  and  hotels: 

Harriet  Fay&s,  "  The  Housing  of  Single  Women,"  in  Municipal  Affairs,  March, 
1899,  pp.  95-107;  an  admirable  article. 

The  Long  Day,  ch.  xi,  and  Epilogue. 

Third  Annual  Report  of  the  Franklin  Square  House,  Boston,  1905. 

Mary  S.  Ferguson,  "  Boarding-Houses  and  Clubs  for  Working- Women  "  in  Bulletin 
No.  15  of  the  United  States  Department  of  Labor  (March,  1898),  pp.  141-196. 

United  States  Department  of  Labor,  Fourth  Annual  Report. 

Carroll  D.  Wright,  The  Working-Girls  of  Boston,  1889. 

The  intelligent  working-girls'  view  is  strikingly  and  clearly  stated  by  the  author 
of  The  Long  Day: 

"  We  have  a  great  and  crying  need  for  two  things  —  things  which  it  is  entirely  within 
the  power  of  a  broad-minded  philanthropy  to  supply.  The  most  urgent  of  these  needs 
is  a  very  material  and  unpoetic  one.  We  need  a  well-regulated  system  of  bparding- 
and  lodging-houses  where  we  can  live  with  decency  upon  the  small  wages  we  receive. 
We  do  not  want  any  so-called  '  working-girls'  homes,'  —  God  forgive  the  euphemism ! 
— which,  while  overcharging  us  for  the  accommodations,  at  the  same  time  would  put 


178        THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

The  improvement  of  housing  conditions  for  the  lodger  class  need 
not  wait  upon  such  large  enterprises,  however.  There  is  a  heavy 
demand,  as  we  have  seen,  for  single  rooms,  while  the  proportion  of 
double  ("square")  rooms  to  single  ("side"  or  "hall")  rooms  in  the 
district  is  about  eight  to  five.  It  would  be  possible  with  a  change  in 
the  building  laws  (a  bill  for  which  at  the  time  of  writing  is  before 
the  Legislature)  to  remodel  the  present  lodging-houses  so  as  to 
have  two  single  rooms  where  there  is  now  one  double  room.  It 

us  in  the  attitude  of  charity  dependents.  What  the  working-girl  needs  is  a  cheap  hotel 
or  system  of  hotels  —  for  she  needs  a  great  many  of  them  —  designed  something 
after  the  Mills  Hotel  for  working-men.  She  also  needs  a  system  of  well-regulated  lodg- 
ing-houses, such  as  are  scattered  all  over  the  city  for  the  benefit  of  men.  My  expe- 
rience of  the  working-girls'  home  in  which  I  lived  for  many  weeks,  and  from  my  ob- 
servations and  inquiries  regarding  a  number  of  similar  '  homes,'  which  I  have  since 
visited,  justifies  me  in  making  a  few  suggestions  regarding  the  general  plan  and  con- 
duct of  the  ideal  philanthropic  scheme  which  I  have  in  mind. 

"  First  and  most  important,  there  must  be  no  semblance  of  charity.  Let  the  work- 
ing-girls' hotel  and  the  working-girls'  lodging-house  be  not  only  self-supporting,  but 
so  built  and  conducted  that  they  will  pay  a  fair  rate  of  interest  upon  the  money  in- 
vested. Otherwise  they  would  fail  of  any  truly  philanthropic  object. 

"As  to  their  conduct  as  institutions,  there  should  be  no  rules,  no  regulations  which 
are  not  in  full  operation  in  the  Waldorf-Astoria  or  the  Hotel  St.  Regis.  The  curse  of 
all  such  attempts  in  the  past  has  been  the  insistence  upon  coercive  morality.  Make 
them  not  only  non-sectarian  but  non-religious.  There  is  no  more  need  of  conduct- 
ing a  working-girls'  hotel  or  lodging-house  in  the  name  of  God  or  under  the  auspices 
of  religious  sentiment  than  there  is  necessity  for  advertising  the  Martha  Washing- 
ton Hotel  or  any  fashionable  bachelor  apartment-house  as  being  under  divine  guid- 
ance. 

"A  clean  room  and  three  wholesomely  cooked  meals  a  day  can  be  furnished  to 
working-girls  at  a  price  such  as  would  make  it  possible  for  them  to  live  honestly  on 
the  small  wage  of  the  factory  and  store.  We  do  not  ask  for  luxuries  or  dainties.  We 
do  not  get  them  in  the  miserable,  dark  warrens  where  we  are  now  obliged  to  sleep, 
and  we  do  not  get  them  at  the  unappetizing  boarding-house  tables  where  countless 
thousands  of  us  find  sustenance.  I  do  not  know  —  I  suppose  nobody  does  know  — 
how  many  working-girls  in  New  York  City  live  in  lodging-houses.  But  they  are 
legion,  and  very  few  of  them  are  contented  with  that  life 

"  In  the  model  lodging-house  there  should  be  perfect  liberty  of  conduct  and  ac- 
tion on  the  part  of  guests  —  who  will  not  be  'inmates'  in  any  sense  of  the  word.  Such 
guests  should  have  perfect  liberty  to  come  and  go  when  they  please  at  any  hour  of 
the  day  or  night ;  be  permitted  to  see  any  person  they  choose  to  have  come,  without 
question  or  challenge,  so  long  as  the  conventions  of  ordinary  social  life  are  complied 
with.  Such  an  institution  conducted  on  such  a  plan  and  managed  so  that  it  would 
make  fair  returns  to  its  promoters,  cannot  fail  to  be  welcomed ;  and  would  be  of 
inestimable  benefit  as  an  uplifting  and  regenerative  force  with  those  for  whom  it  is 
designed."  —  The  Long  Day,  pp.  285-288. 


SUMMARY  AND  CONCLUSION  179 

would  thus  be  possible,  at  relatively  low  cost  it  seems,  to  have  in 
the  same  building  eighteen  single  rooms,  two  baths,  and  a  public 
parlor,  where  now  there  are  eight  double  rooms,  five  single  rooms, 
only  one  bath,  and  no  public  parlor.  Moreover,  the  dining-room 
and  kitchen  will  be  retained  in  the  basement,  so  that  the  house  can 
be  run  as  a  boarding-house  if  desired.  The  South  End  House  has 
at  present  a  definite  plan  for  taking  two  houses  and  remodeling 
them  in  this  way.  The  experiment  will  be  extremely  interesting, 
and  with  little  doubt,  successful.  Where  a  number  of  houses  can 
be  put  under  the  same  business  management  it  is  believed  they  can 
be  made  a  satisfactory  business  proposition  even  after  the  expense 
of  remodeling.  And  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  from  the  lodger's 
social  and  moral  standpoint  it  is  a  desirable  change.  So  far  as 
existing  houses  are  concerned,  in  other  words,  this  is  a  true  reform, 
because  it  changes  old  dwellings,  by  no  means  fitted  for  the  purpose 
to  which  they  are  now  put,  into  structurally  proper  lodging-  and 
boarding-houses. 

Along  with  this  reform  can  go  that  other  one  of  which  we  have 
spoken  in  connection  with  the  marriage  problem,  the  remodeling 
of  South  End  houses  into  small  apartments  at  moderate  price  to 
supply  a  much  felt  need,  and  to  encourage  the  lodger  to  adopt  mar- 
ried life.  This  form  of  remodeling  can  probably  be  safely  left  to 
private  enterprise,  as  soon  as  the  building  laws  permit. 

Not  any  one  nor  all  of  these  reforms  together  will  solve  the 
lodger  problem  in  any  permanent  manner.  The  true  reform 
must  come  from  changes  in  economic  and  social  standards  that 
will  fundamentally  affect  the  lodger,  or  prospective  lodger,  him- 
self. It  must  lie  in  better  moral  training  for  the  boys  and  girls 
whom  economic  conditions  are  almost  surely  going  to  send  out  to 
do  battle  in  the  world  —  a  place  where  they  will  meet  many  trying 
and  dangerous  situations.  In  more  ways  than  one,  as  lodgers, 
they  will  be  thrown  upon  their  own  resources;  economically  they 
will  have  to  earn  their  own  living;  socially  they  will  be,  fora  long 
time  possibly,  more  or  less  isolated,  and  will  have  to  pick  their 
friends  from  the  chance  acquaintances  they  may  make;  morally 
they  will  have  no  one  to  account  to  but  themselves,  for  the  restric- 
tions of  parents,  family,  home,  and  community  are  removed  in 
distance  and  in  time,  and  their  influence  is  in  inverse  proportion. 


l8o       THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

The  lodger's  own  conscience  must  be  his  mentor,  his  own  moral 
judgment  his  guide. 

Few  thoughtful  persons  will  deny  that  the  man  or  woman  whose 
morals  are  strongly  self-reliant,  based  on  his  or  her  own  thought- 
out  standards,  is  in  all  ways  better  fitted  to  face  the  world  in  en- 
joyment and  in  service  than  he  whose  standards  and  habits  are 
shaped  by  external  control,  be  it  parental,  social,  or  any  other.  "  Social 
control"  is  a  powerful  thing  within  the  social  group  to  which  an 
individual  belongs,  for  many  it  is  almost  an  absolute  despot,  rul- 
ing with  an  inflexible  rod  over  conduct,  but  just  as  soon  as  the  in- 
dividual finds  himself  in  a  different  group,  the  group-control  to 
which  he  has  been  subject  comes  in  conflict  with  a  new  control, 
new  ways  of  living,  new  standards  of  thought  and  action,  and  be- 
comes either  of  no  force  or  worse  than  none.  This  is  precisely  the 
position  in  which  thousands  of  young  persons  find  themselves  who 
flock  to  the  cities  for  work,  and  through  force  of  circumstances 
become  lodgers,  answerable,  for  the  most  part,  to  no  one  but  them- 
selves for  their  conduct. 

To  throw  a  young  person  suddenly  into  such  an  environment  is 
like  throwing  a  child  into  deep  water  and  leaving  it  to  sink  or  swim. 
The  mass  of  the  young  people  who  find  themselves  in  lodgings  are 
by  no  means  fitted  for  any  such  Spartan  training;  their  moral  con- 
stitution is  not  sturdy  enough  to  withstand  the  shock  of  such  sudden 
immersion  in  individual  moral  responsibility.  They  have  not,  at 
least  in  very  many  cases,  the  moral  training  necessary  to  carry  safely 
the  degree  of  freedom  thrust  upon  them  by  the  conditions  of  lodg- 
ing-house existence.  No  small  proportion  of  them  come  from  the 
country  and  small  towns,  with  the  no  doubt  sincere  but  often  narrow, 
inflexible,  and  generally  inadequate  training  of  the  country.  Taught 
to  exercise  their  conduct  by  precept  and  rule  rather  than  by  judg- 
ment and  reason,  when  they  come  to  the  city  and  enter  into  the 
new,  strange,  sordid,  half-cynical  atmosphere  of  the  lodging-house 
world,  with  its  isolation  and  its  freedom,  they  find  themselves  at 
sea  without  compass  or  rudder.  The  moral  and  religious  precepts 
by  which  they  have  been  taught  to  regulate  their  lives,  however 
good  in  themselves,  may  have  been  sufficient  for  the  rural  district 
and  the  small  towns  from  which  they  came,  but  they  break  down 
entirely  when  subjected  to  the  strain  and  stress  of  the  city,  and 


SUMMARY  AND  CONCLUSION  l8l 

especially  of  that  particular  portion  of  the  city  which  is  fullest  of 
reefs  and  shoals.  The  result:  before  they  have  got  their  bearings 
they  have  drifted  hopelessly.  Two  deficiencies  in  their  constitu- 
tion, therefore,  stand  in  the  way  of  their  safety.  One  is  that  such 
moral  education  as  they  have  had  has  been  of  the  local,  non-adapt- 
ive sort,  not  touching  the  great  and  practical  problems  of  modern 
life,  —  of  the  kind,  too  often,  that  strains  at  a  gnat  and  swallows 
a  camel.  The  other  lies  in  the  way  moral  training  has  been  admin- 
istered —  by  rule,  and  not  by  rational  thought  appealing  to  an 
active  sense  of  justice  and  right. 

We  can  scarcely  expect  rural  society  to  fit  people  once  for  all  for 
the  complexities  of  city  life,  but  before  the  most  acute  phase 
of  the  lodger  problem  will  pass  away,  a  change  will  have  to  take 
place  in  the  home  and  school  training  of  the  boy  and  girl.  Even 
the  inadequate,  non-adaptable  religious  and  moral  training,  for- 
merly given  in  church  and  school,  is  dropping  away,  and  in  its  place 
not  enough  ethical  instruction  of  either  a  direct  or  an  indirect  na- 
ture has  been  substituted.  The  home  is  partially  to  blame,  but 
not  so  much  as  the  schools,  which  fail  somewhat  to  grasp  the  ethical 
and  social  importance  of  what  we  may  call  the  social  studies,  e.  g. 
literature  and  history,  and  have  thrown  proportionally  undue  em- 
phasis upon  the  sciences  and  languages.  However,  this  is  not  a 
pedagogical  treatise.  We  merely  wish  to  point  out  that  in  larger 
school  funds  lies  one  of  the  cures  for  the  lodging-house  problem. 
If  it  is  the  business  of  schools  to  prepare  the  individual  for  life  in 
the  world,  it  is  also  their  business  to  try  to  conform  their  curriculums 
to  the  demand  the  world  is  going  to  make  on  the  individual.  The 
boys  and  girls  of  to-day,  who  are  to  be  the  men  or  women  of  to- 
morrow, to  go  out  and  face  all  sorts  of  new  situations,  ought  to  have 
above  all  things  an  education  which  will  put  them  in  possession 
of  themselves  wherever  they  are,  that  when  they  leave  behind  the 
setting  of  family  traditions,  customs,  understandings,  and  of  vil- 
lage emulations  and  social  demands,  where  nobody  dares  do 
things  contrary  to  local  standards  of  action  for  fear  of  "what  peo- 
ple will  say,"  and  come  into  a  place  where  one  can  do  about  as  he 
pleases  and  nobody  will  know  it,  much  less  say  anything,  they  will 
not  lose  moral  grip  on  themselves. 

The  country  is  not  the  only  source  which  supplies  the  stream  of 


1 82        THE  LODGING-HOUSE  PROBLEM  IN  BOSTON 

lodgers.  A  large  percentage  come  from  the  city ;  if  not  from  Boston, 
then  from  some  other  urban  centre  where  they  have  been  born  and 
bred.  They  have  come  down  from  the  old-time  boarding-house 
and  up  from  the  tenement,  and  they  are  sophisticated  to  such  an 
extent  that  they  feel  habitually  a  certain  leniency  toward  the  loose- 
ness of  lodging-house  conduct.  And  to  this  indifferent  class  we  must 
add  the  positively  vicious  and  criminal. 

With  a  mixture  of  these  three  classes  and  the  conditions  with 
which  we  are  now  familiar,  as  the  environment  of  the  individual 
lodger,  are  we  to  wonder  if  the  influence  of  the  lodging-house  is 
directly  and  specifically  immoral?  The  unbroken  routine  of  such 
life  will  drive  not  a  few  to  rash  acts  merely  as  a  change  and  escape 
from  isolation  and  monotony.  And  beyond  this,  consciously  or 
unconsciously,  the  influence  of  imitation  will  be  at  work.  If  we  stay 
in  Rome  long  enough,  we  do  as  the  Romans  do.  Environment  such 
as  the  South  End  Lodging  House  districts  constitutes  is  naturally 
and  necessarily  stronger  in  the  long  run  than  precept.  Indeed  it  is 
a  question  whether  a  general  training  could  be  devised  which  would 
render  the  individual  permanently  proof  against  its  debilitating 
influence.  But  education  of  the  generation  which  replenishes  the 
lodging-house  population  will  not  only  strengthen  the  individual 
who  must  undergo  the  life  of  a  lodger;  it  will  also  purify  the  en- 
vironment of  the  lodger. 

Finally,  no  ultimate  cure  of  the  problems  now  existing  will  be 
reached  until  the  economic  conditions  which  produce  them  are 
changed.  When  the  tremendous  rush  to  the  cities  abates,  when  the 
underpaid  mercantile  employee  is  recognized  by  public  and  em- 
ployer as  entitled  to  a  living  wage  as  much  as  the  skilled  mechanic, 
when  the  public  realizes  that  the  female  stenographer  is  under 
just  as  heavy  expenses  as  the  man  beside  her,  who  is  doing  the  same 
work  at  twice  the  wages,  when,  in  short,  we  reach  a  juster  sense  of 
economic  proportion  and  social  expediency  than  we  have  yet  at- 
tained, we  can  say  that  the  chief  of  the  basic  causes  of  the  lodging- 
house  problem  has  been  removed. 


APPENDICES 


APPENDIX  A 

BIBLIOGRAPHY 

A.  There  is  no  book  bearing  directly  and  primarily  upon  the  rooming- 

house  problem.     The  following  books,  however,  recognize  the  exist- 
ence of  such  a  problem,  and  certain  parts  of  them  are  suggestive. 
Bushee,  Frederick  A.,  The  Ethnic  Factors  of  the  Population  of  Boston,  Pub- 
lications of  the  American  Economic  Association,  May,  1903. 
Ferguson,  Mary  S.,  Boarding-Houses  and  Clubs  for  Working- Women,  Bulletin 

No.  15,  United  States  Department  of  Labor  (March,  1898). 
Leroy-Beaulieu,  Repartition  des  Richesses,  Paris,  1881. 
Picot,  Georges,  L'habitation  ouvriere  a  Paris  —  Le  logement  en  garni,  Insti- 
tut  de  France,  Acaddmie  des  Sciences  et  Politiques,  Seances  et  travaux,  n.  s. 
vol.  53  (1900),  pp.  664-686. 

The  Long  Day  —  The  True  Story  of  a  New  York  Working-Girl  as  Told  by 
Herself,  New  York,    1905;    especially  chapters   I,  in,  ix,  and   Epilogue. 
Woods,  Robert  A.,  and  others,  The  City  Wilderness,  Boston,  1899. 
Americans  in  Process,  Boston,  1902. 

B.  The  statistical  material  in  this  investigation  has  been  gleaned  from  the 

following  sources: 

Annual  Reports  of  the  Massachusetts  Bureau  of  Statistics  of  Labor,  1900,  1902. 
Annual  Reports  of  the  Registry  Department  of  the  City  of  Boston,  1901-1904. 
Massachusetts  State  Census,  1905,  pamphlet  on  Population  and  Legal  Voters. 
Massachusetts  State  Census,  1895,  vols.  i,  n,  and  iv. 
Massachusetts  State  Census,  1885,  vol.  I. 

Monthly  Bulletin,  City  Statistics  Department,  Boston,  October,  1903. 
Municipal  Register,  Boston,  1901,  1902. 
Precinct  Lists  of  Male  Residents,  1903. 

Real  Estate  Assessment  Books,  Assessors'  Office,  Boston,  1868-1904. 
Records  of  Deeds  and  Mortgages,  City  Hall,  Boston. 
Twelfth  United  States  Census,  1900,  Population,  parts  I  and  n. 
Twelfth  United  States  Census,  Special  Report  on  Occupations,  1904. 

C.  The  following  books  and  articles  have  also  been  of  assistance  in  various 

ways: 
Addams,  Jane,  Democracy  and  Social  Ethics. 


l86  APPENDIX 

Bowley,  Elements  of  Statistics. 

Bowmaker,  The  Housing  of  the  Working  Classes,  London,  1895. 

Brandt,  Lilian,  The  Negroes  of  St.  Louis,  Publications  of  the  American  Statis- 
tical Association,  March,  1903. 

Bushe*e,  Frederick  A.,  The  Growth  of  the  Population  of  the  City  of  Boston, 
Publications  of  the  American  Statistical  Association.  June,  1899. 

DeForest  and  Veiller,  The  Tenement -House  Problem,  New  York,  1903. 

Dilke,  Bulley,  and  Whitley,  Women's  Work,  London,  1894. 

Ely,  Richard  T.,  The  Coming  City,  1903. 

Fayes,  Harriet,  The  Housing  of  Single  Women,  Municipal  Affairs,  March,  1899. 

Franklin  Square  House  Association,  Boston,  Reports  and  pamphlets  of. 

Gould,  E.  R.  L.,  Housing  of  the  Working  People,  Eighth  Special  Report  of  the 
United  States  Commissioner  of  Labor,  1895. 

Hurd,  Richard  M.,  Principles  of  City  Land  Values,  New  York,  1903. 

Kuczynski,  Der  Zug  nach  der  Stadt,  1897. 

Living  Age,  May,  1904,  article  on  Furnished  Lodgings. 

McNeill,  W.  S.,  Die  Aufgaben  der  Stadtgemeinden  in  der  Wohnungsfrage, 
Berlin,  1902. 

Mayo-Smith,  Statistics  and  Sociology. 

Mussey,  H.  R.,  The  "Fake"  Instalment  Business,  University  Settlement  So- 
ciety, New  York,  1903. 

Newsholm,  Vital  Statistics. 

Octavia  Hill  Association,  Report  on  Certain  Aspects  of  the  Housing  Problem 
in  Philadelphia,  American  Academy  of  Political  and  Social  Science,  No.  345 
(July,  1902). 

Paine,  Robert  Treat,  The  Housing  Conditions  in  the  City  of  Boston,  in  the 
same. 

Phelps,  R.  F.,  South  End  Factory  Operatives  and  Their  Residence,  South 
End  House,  Boston,  1903. 

Report  of  the  Commission  Appointed  by  the  Mayor  to  Investigate  Tenement- 
House  Conditions  in  the  City  of  Boston,  Boston,  Municipal  Printing  Office, 
1904. 

South  End  House,  Boston,  Reports  of,  1902-1906. 

Sykes,  John  F.  J.,  Public  Health  and  Housing,  London,  1901. 

Thomas,  John  Lloyd,  Workingmen's  Hotels,  Municipal  Affairs,  March,  1899. 

United  States  Department  of  Labor,  Fourth  Annual  Report,  1888,  —  Work- 
ing-Women in  Large  Cities;  especially  the  chapter  on  Working-Girls'  Clubs 
and  Homes. 

Weber,  Adna  F.,  The  Growth  of  Cities  in  the  Nineteenth  Century,  Columbia 
University  Studies  in  History,  Economics,  and  Public  Law,  vol.  xi,  1899. 


APPENDIX  187 

Whitmore,  Henry,  Real  Estate  Values  in  Boston,  Publications  of  the  American 

Statistical  Association,  March,  1896. 
Wilcox.  Delos  F.,  The  American  City :  A  Problem  in  Democracy,  New  York, 

1904. 

Wright,  Carroll  D.,  The  Working-Girls  of  Boston,  Boston,  1889. 
Zeublin,  American  Municipal  Progress,  1903. 


APPENDIX  B 

MOVEMENTS  OF  POPULATION  FROM  THE  COUNTRY  TO  THE 
CITY  — SOME  STATISTICS  SHOWING  THE  NATIVITY  OF 
THE  POPULATION  OF  BOSTON 

For  the  light  they  throw  upon  the  sources  from  which  the  lodging-house  popu- 
lation is  probably  derived,  the  following  tables  may  not  be  without  value  and 
interest. 

TABLE   49.      NATIVITY  OF  THE  POPULATION  OF  BOSTON,    1885  l 

Per  cent. 

Total  population,  1885  390,393        100.0 

Born  in  Boston  150,177          38.5 

Born  outside  of  Boston  240,216          61.5 
Born  in: 

Massachusetts  50,304          12.7 
Other  New  England  states  38,869          16.0 
New  York,  New  Jersey,  and  Pennsylvania  9,321            2.5 
South  Atlantic  states  4, 120 
North  Central  states  2,105 
South  Central  states  551            2.2 
Western  states  370 
United  States,  not  specified  1,281 
Total  born  in  the  United  States,  outside  of  Bos- 
ton 106,921          27.4 
Canada,  etc.  27,322            7.0 
Total  born  in  the  United  States  outside  of  Boston 

and  in  Canada  134,243          34  4 

Foreign  born,  excluding  Canadians  105,973          27.1 

TABLE  50.    NATIVITY  OF  THE  POPULATION  OF  BOSTON,  1895 2 

Per  cent. 

Total  population  496,920        100.0 

Born  in  Boston  208,317          42.0 

Born  outside  of  Boston  288,603          58.0 

1  Compiled  from  the  State  Census  of  Massachusetts,  1885,  vol.  i,  p.  550. 

2  Compiled  from  the  State  Census  of  Massachusetts,  1895,  vol.  ii,  pp.  671,  672. 


APPENDIX  189 

Born  in: 

Massachusetts  39,568          7.9 

Other  New  England  states  40,500          8.1 

New  York,  New  Jersey,  and  Pennsylvania  13,590          2.7 

South  Atlantic  states  6,625 

North  Central  states  3,561 

South  Central  states  864          3.0 

Western  States  649 

United  states,  not  specified  1,832 

American  citizens  born  abroad  1,122 

Total  bora  in  the  United  States,  outside  of  Boston    108,211        21.7 

Canada,  etc.  44,202          9.0 

Total  bom  in  the  United  States,  outside  of  Bos- 
ton, and  in  Canada,  etc.  152,413        30.7 
Foreign  bora,  exclusive  of  Canadians,  etc.  136,190        27.3 

The  Federal  Census  of  1900  does  not  give  the  number  of  residents  of  Boston 
who  were  bom  in  Massachusetts  but  outside  of  Boston.  The  total  number  born 
in  Massachusetts  was  285,242,  and  if  we  assume  that  the  same  proportion  of 
these  were  born  in  Boston  as  in  1895,  when  the  total  number  of  residents  of 
Boston  born  in  Massachusetts  was  247,885,  of  whom  208,317  were  bora  out- 
side of  Boston,  we  get  the  proportion  247,885  :  208,317  :  :  285,242  :  239,900, 
the  last  term  of  which,  239,900,  represents  the  probable  number  of  residents  of 
Boston  in  1900  who  were  bora  in  Boston.  This  leaves  45,342  bora  in  Massa- 
chusetts but  outside  of  Boston.  We  are  now  in  position  to  construct  a  table  for 
1900  parallel  to  those  given  for  1885  and  1895. 

TABLE  51.    NATIVITY  OF  THE  POPULATION  OF  BOSTON,  1900 l 

Per  cent. 

Total  population,  1900  560,892  100.0 

2  Bom  in  Boston  239,900  42.7 

2  Born  outside  of  Boston  320,092  57.3 
Bora  in: 

2  Massachusetts  45>342  8.1 

Other  New  England  states  43,°77  7-7 

New  York,  New  Jersey,  and  Pennsylvania  16,556  3.0 

South  Atlantic  states  8,028 

North  Central  states  4,686 

1  Compiled  from  the  Twelfth  U.  S.  Census,  Population,  part  I,  pp.  706-709. 
1  Estimated. 


190  APPENDIX 

South  Central  states  i>i25  3.3 

Western  States  977 

United  States,  not  specified  2,556 

American  citizens  born  abroad,  etc.  ^,5^ 

Total  born  in  the  United  States  outside  of  Boston  123,863          22.1 
Born  in  Canada,  etc.  50,282  9.0 

Total  born  in  the  United  States,  outside  of  Boston 

and  in  Canada,  etc.  174,145          31.1 

Foreign  born,  exclusive  of  Canadians  146,874          26.2 

The  following  table  gives  the  percentages  born  in  Boston  and  outside  of 
Boston  for  the  three  years  1885,  1895,  and  1900. 

TABLE  52.    NATIVITY  OF  THE  POPULATION  OF  BOSTON,  BY  PERCENTAGES 

1885  1895  1900 

Total  population  of  Boston  100.0  100.0  100.0 

Born  in  Boston  38.5  42.0  42.7 

Born  outside  of  Boston  61.5  58.0  57.3 
Born  in: 

Massachusetts  12.7  7.9  8.1 

Other  New  England  states  10.0  8.1  7.7 

New  York,  New  Jersey,  and  Pennsylvania  2.5  2.7  3.0 

Elsewhere  in  the  United  States  2.2  3.0  3.3 

Canada,  etc.  7.0  9.0  9.0 

Foreign  born,  exclusive  of  Canadians  27.1  27.3  26.2 

The  salient  facts  shown  by  this  table  are  these:  that  about  sixty  per  cent,  of 
the  population  of  Boston  was  born  elsewhere,  but  that  there  has  been  a  slight 
decrease  (4.2  %)  of  this  non-native  element  since  1885;  that  of  this  non-native 
portion  of  the  population  the  foreign  born,  exclusive  of  Canadians,  etc.,  con- 
stitute nearly  one  half,  and  that  the  other  half  is  derived  chiefly  from  New  Eng- 
land and  the  British  American  provinces.  The  Canadian  element  is  of  great 
social  significance.  It  appears  to  maintain  an  even  level  of  about  nine  per  cent, 
of  the  total  population,  but  increased  somewhat  in  the  ten  years  between  1885 
and  1895.  In  these  same  ten  years  there  was  a  striking  fall  in  the  percentage 
from  Massachusetts  as  well  as  from  other  New  England  states.  The  percent- 
age from  the  near-by  states  of  New  York,  New  Jersey,  and  Pennsylvania  shows 
but  a  slight  decrease  in  the  fifteen  years. 


APPENDIX  C 

STUDENT-QUARTERS   IN   BOSTON 

A  treatment,  however  summary,  of  the  lodging-house  question  in  Boston 
should  not  omit  some  reference  to  the  student-class.  Perhaps  no  population 
group  is  so  thoroughly  a  lodging-  and  boarding-class  as  are  the  students.  In  the 
nature  of  things  most  of  them  are  away  from  home  and  have  to  live  in  board- 
ing- or  lodging-houses,  however  much  they  may  dislike  the  life.  This  is  espe- 
cially true  in  Boston  where  as  a  rule  the  educational  institutions  are  not  pro- 
vided with  dormitories  and  eating-halls.  In  general  the  student  must  shift  for 
himself,  find  his  own  boarding-  and  rooming-places,  and  be  his  own  judge  of 
suitable  houses  and  localities.  The  general  result  leaves  much  to  be  desired. 

With  a  word  first  as  to  the  residence  of  teachers  in  Boston,  we  may  turn  to 
the  geographical  distribution  of  students  of  a  few  typical  institutions.  The  pro- 
blem of  the  student-lodger  is  a  separate  problem  in  itself,  and  is  one  best  left 
to  persons  whose  work  has  made  them  familiar  with  its  special  peculiarities, 
its  own  points  of  difficulty,  its  own  tendencies  for  good  and  for  evil. 

The  public  schools  of  Boston  are  presided  over  by  approximately  2220 
teachers  (1903).  Of  these  about  120,  or  only  5.4  %  live  in  South  End  lodging- 
houses.  The  inclusion  of  the  West  End  would  increase  the  percentage  slightly, 
but  it  is  evident  that  most  of  the  public  school  teachers  live  in  suburban  dis- 
tricts, and  that  teachers  as  a  class  do  not  form  an  appreciable  part  of  the  lodg- 
ing-house population. 

It  is  said  and  with  near  approach  to  truth  that  there  are  between  20,000 
and  25,000  students  in  Boston.  This  includes  students  in  the  large  educa- 
tional institutions  like  the  New  England  Conservatory  of  Music,  the  Massa- 
chusetts Institute  of  Technology,  the  Harvard  Medical  School,  Tufts  Medical 
School,  Emerson  College  of  Oratory,  Boston  University,  etc.  Besides  these  we 
have  the  students  in  all  the  miscellaneous  little  institutions  —  the  business  col- 
leges, the  art  schools,  the  schools  of  dramatic  expression,  etc.  Many  of  these 
students  live  at  home  in  the  city,  many  live  in  the  suburbs  near  and  far,  but 
most  will  be  found  in  the  lodging-  and  boarding-houses  of  the  city. 

Some  idea  of  the  geographical  distribution  of  the  students  may  be  gained 
from  Chart  xvii,  which  shows  the  distribution  of  some  1180  students  from 
one  of  the  large  educational  institutions  of  the  city.1  Of  these  the  South  End 

1  Out  of  some  1500  in  the  institution.  The  other  320  lived  in  the  suburbs  beyond 
the  limits  of  this  map. 


192  APPENDIX 

lodging-district  claims  the  greatest  number,  238;  the  West  End  and  Beacon 
Hill  claim  97,  Newbury  Street  (Back  Bay)  94,  St.  Botolph  Street  88,  and  Hunt- 
ington  Avenue  37.  The  map  represents  fairly  well  what  would  be  the  general 
distribution  of  students  could  we  obtain  data  for  all  the  institutions. 

It  is  evident  that  the  South  End  lodging-house  district  is  one  of  the  great 
student-quarters  of  the  city.  Besides  the  South  End  there  are  four  other  stu- 
dent-districts at  present:  namely,  the  West  End  and  Beacon  Hill  district  (A 
on  the  chart),  the  Huntington  Avenue  and  St.  Botolph  Street  district  (D  and  E), 
the  Newbury  Street  district  (B),  and  finally  the  new  student-quarter  in  the 
western  portion  of  Ward  10,  between  Massachusetts  Avenue  on  one  side  and 
Huntington  Avenue  and  the  Fenway  on  the  other  (F).  The  district  between 
Huntington  Avenue  and  the  New  York,  New  Haven  and  Hartford  Railroad, 
including  St.  Botolph  Street  and  the  cross-streets,  Harcourt,  Garrison,  Follen, 
Durham,  Cumberland,  Blackwood,  and  Albemarle  streets,  is  perhaps  at  pre- 
sent the  most  typical  student-quarter  of  the  city.  But  for  the  railroad  it  would 
be  continuous  with  the  South  End.  The  railroad,  however,  acts  as  a  stone  wall 
between  the  two  sections,  and  they  are  distinctly  unlike  in  appearance  and 
in  character.  The  South  End  is  full  of  lodging-houses  as  such.  The  other 
district  is  given  over  mainly  to  flat-dwellers,  who  re-rent  rooms  to  students, 
artists,  musicians,  and  the  higher  class  of  business  employees. 

District  F,  the  newest  student-quarter,  together  with  Huntington  Avenue 
and  St.  Botolph  Street,  is  practically  sure  to  become  the  one  great,  typical  stu- 
dent-quarter of  the  city,  —  a  district  far  more  thoroughly  and  compactly  given 
over  to  students  than  is  any  section  at  present.  This  newer  section  includes: 
Westland  Avenue,  Batavia,  Gainsborough,  Jarvis,  and  Hemenway  streets, 
and  portions  of  St.  Botolph  Street  and  Huntington  Avenue,  and  a  large 
amount  of  territory  yet  to  be  built  up.  Within  this  new  district  are  already 
situated  the  New  England  Conservatory  of  Music,  the  Emerson  College  of 
Oratory,  Simmons  College,  and  the  Harvard  and  Tufts  Medical  Schools.  The 
Museum  of  Fine  Arts,  with  its  art  school,  will  move  to  the  same  district  in  the 
near  future,  and  it  is  possible  that  the  Massachusetts  Institute  of  Technology 
will  sooner  or  later  move  to  the  same  locality.  When  these  movements  are 
completed  we  may  expect  to  see  the  students,  those  of  the  better  class  at  least, 
leave  the  South  End  and  Beacon  Hill  lodging-houses.  Houses  and  dormitories 
for  the  special  accommodation  of  students  will  be  built  in  the  new  district  and 
we  may  expect  to  see  the  problem  of  the  student  solved  to  some  extent.  The 
New  England  Conservatory  has  already  erected  a  residence-hall  accommodat- 
ing about  two  hundred  women-students,  divided  into  groups,  each  group 
having  its  own  private  parlor,  dining-hall,  and  servants. 


INDEX 


INDEX 


Addresses,  rapid  change  of,  83-85,  138,  142, 

145-149.    See  also  Nomadism. 
Administrative  districts   not  suitable  units  for 

statistical  purposes,  1 1 6. 
Advertising,  62,  70,  144,  147. 
Age,  117,  125-127,  129,  131. 
Of  landladies,  52. 

Of  lodgers,  81,  82,  83,  115,  125-127. 
Alleys,  22,  27. 
Altruism,  154. 
Ambition,  165. 

American  Institute  of  Social  Service,  172,  note. 
Americans  in  Process  quoted,  25. 
Amusement,  27,  29,  30,  172.     See  also  Thea- 
tres, Dance-halls,  etc. 
Anthropometry,  117,  note. 
Apartment-houses,  4,  24-25,  26,  79,  86-87,  91, 
117,  119,  121,  125,  126,  128-129,  131,  144, 
159-162,  164,  1 66,  179,  189. 
Bachelor-,  4,  178,  note. 
Should  be  investigated,  159. 
Architecture,  13,  21,  22,  34-37. 
Assessed  valuations,  relation  to  real  values,  72- 

.74-  _ 

Assignation,  30. 
Associated  Charities,  106,  107. 
Astrologers,  32. 

Back  Bay,  12,  13,  14,  16,  19,  26,  75,  91,  117, 

119,  124,  129,  131. 
Bakeries,  28,  104. 
Baltimore,  38,  40. 
Banks,  14. 

Basement  dining-rooms.    See  Dining-rooms. 
Bath-room,  34,  35,  36,  170,  179. 
Beacon  Hill,  n,  16,  24-25,  118,  188-189. 
Beds,  35,  37,  170. 
Beer  garden,  28,  30. 
Besant,  Walter,  quoted,  no,  note. 
Bibliography,  183-185. 
Bicycling,  173. 

Billiard-halls.    See  Pool-rooms. 
Birth-rate.    See  Births. 
Births,  115,  117,  121,  128-133,  I5°~I5I>  J^4» 

169.    See  also  Children  and  Marriage. 
Blue  Hills,  172. 
Board,  price  of,  3,  note,  101-104,  174,  177. 

Quality  of,  102,  174-175. 
Boarding-houses,  25,  38-51. 

Distinguished  from  lodging-houses,  5. 


Supplanted   by  lodging-houses,   25,  43-56, 

152,  1 68,  174. 
Bohemianism,  52,  155. 
Books,  113,  173. 
Booth,  Charles,  115. 
Boston  Transcript,  112. 
Boundaries,  20-26,  168. 
Brandt,  Lillian,  quoted,  92,  note. 
Brighton,  120. 
Brookline,  16,  124. 
Brooklyn,  40. 
Buffalo,  38,  40. 

Building  Department,  13,  note. 
Building  laws,  79-80,  132,  note,  178,  179. 
Building  trades,  96. 
Bureau  of  Statistics  of  Labor  (Massachusetts), 

7,  note,  53,  note,  66,  97,  169-170. 
Bushe'e,  F.  A.,  quoted,  19. 
Business,  10,  n,  16,  27-33,  47>  ^3>  69-70,  1OS> 

120,  173,  174,  179. 
Business  mediums,  32. 

Cafe's,  5,  23,  24,  27,  39,  46, 47,  48, 49,  66, 102- 

104,  in,  139,    142,    145,   161,   163,   168, 

174-176. 

Distinguished  from  dining-rooms,  28. 
Cambridge,  13,  29,  103. 
Canada,  53-54,  81,  82. 
Card  catalogues,  47,  84. 
Card  readers,  32. 
Carpets,  35,  36,  60,  107,  170. 
Change  from  boarding  to  lodging,  38-51. 
Charity,  94,  97,  106-108,  154,  175,  note,  176- 

178  and  note. 

Charles  River,  16,  135,  172. 
Charlestown,  13,  119,  120,  123. 
Chicago,  30,  31,  38,  40,  41,  42,  134,  157,  159. 
Child,  Samuel  M.,  quoted,  79-80. 
Children,  13,  82,  126,  129,  131,  144,  150,  151, 

159,  161-166,  169. 
Chinese,  32. 
Church  records,  151. 
Churches,  23,  84,  143,  151,  173.  181. 
Cincinnati,  38,  40. 
City  Wilderness,  The,  quoted,  12,  13,  note,  8 1, 

137- 

Class  consciousness,  152-154,  161. 
Clerks.    See  Manufacturing  and  Mechanical 

Pursuits,  also  Mercantile  Employees. 
Cleveland,  31,  38,  40,  134. 


196 


INDEX 


Closets,  34. 

Clothing,  27,  31,  99,  101,  157-158. 

Coal-bills,  58. 

Coercive  morality,  178. 

Collective   bargaining,  156.     See   also   Trade 

Unions. 

Columbus  Avenue,  building  up  of,  14. 
Combination  meals,  loz. 
Commissions,  69,  76-77. 
Common,  the,  24. 
Community  life,  154. 

Influence  of,  removed,  179-180,  181. 
Companionship,  lacking.  See  Isolation. 
Competition,  32,  47-49,  154,  155,  156,  157- 

158,  1 66. 

Congregation,  tendency  toward,  90-92, 167, 169. 
Conjugal  condition  of  landladies,  54-57. 

Of  lodgers,  81,  94.    See  also  Marriage. 
Consciousness  of  kind,  90. 
Consumption,  uneconomic,  161. 
Continent,  the,  lodging-houses  on,  3. 
Cooked  meat,  28. 
Coolidge,  Dane,  quoted,  39. 
Cost.    See  Price. 

Cost  of  living,  159-162.    See  also  Price. 
Counterfeiting,  134. 
Country  offers   inadequate  moral  training  for 

city  life,  179-182. 

Courtship,  172,  note.    See  also  Public  Parlor. 
Crime,  4,  32,  69,  117,  134-149,  162,  171. 
Criminals.    See  Prime. 
Criminal  statistics,  backwardness  of,  138. 
Crisis  of  1873,  14,  75. 

Crowd,  influence  of,  10.    See  also  Imitation. 
Cynicism,  163,  180. 

Dance-halls,  28,  30,  31. 

Death-rates.     See  Deaths. 

Deaths,  115,  117,  121,  128-133,  J3^»  note>  '5°" 

151,  169. 

Delicatessen  establishments,  28,  104. 
Density  of  population.    See  Population. 

Map  of,  how  made,  121,  note. 
Department  stores,  32,  94-95,  105,  156-158. 
Depreciation,  76-77,  168. 
Dining-halls,  large,  needed,  103,  174-176. 
Dining-rooms,  23,  27,  101-102,  in,  137,  163. 

Distinguished  from  cafe's,  28. 
Discount  tickets.    See  Meal-tickets. 
Disreputable  houses  in  guise  of  lodging-houses, 

140-141,  171. 
Divorce,  161. 

Doctors,  32,  92,  135,  143-144,  148,  151,  162. 
Domestic  and  personal  service,  87,  88,  89,  90, 

9'»  95- 
Domestic  servants,  82,  105,  n8,note,  136,  153, 

174- 

Dorchester,  120. 
Dormitories  for  students,  188-189. 


Dover  Street,  20,  26,  29. 

Drink,  27,  29,  30,  31.    See  also  Intemperance. 

Drug-stores,  27,  32,  143. 

Drunkenness.    See  Drink  and  Intemperance. 

Dwellings,  average  number  of  persons  to,  n8- 

I2O. 

Dwelling-houses.    See  Private  residences. 

East  Boston,  13,  119,  120,  123. 
Education,  104,  105,  106,  113-114,  138,  165, 
169,  172-173,  174,  176,  181,  182. 

Moral,  more  intelligent,  needed,  179-182. 
Elevated  railway,  79. 
Eliot,  Charles,  172. 
Employers,  attitude  of,  101,  156-158. 
Employment.    See  Occupation. 
Environment,  27-33,  IX7>  I3l>  I35~I3^>  J38, 

145-149,  165,  168,  170,  173-182. 
Equities,  trading  in,  70,  78. 
Evening  high  school,  113. 
Evidence,  hard  to  secure,  140,  151. 

Against  real-estate  sharpers,  171. 
Evil,  the  lodger-,  in  tenements,  4. 
Exodus,  the,  from  the  South  End,  14  ff.,  67,  75. 
Expenses,  of  landladies,  57-60. 

Of  landlords,  76-77. 

Of  lodgers,  99-104. 

Factories,  14,  16,  89,  91,  105,  125,  156. 

Fakes,  32. 

Family,  150  ff.,  161-162,  163,  164,  179. 

Fashion,  10,  13,  14,  31,  32. 

Fees,  69. 

Fens,  26. 

Fire-escapes,  34. 

Fire-proofing,  79-80. 

Flats.    See  Apartment-houses. 

Flats,  filling  of,  12,  14,  75. 

Fluidity  of  lodging-house  population.  See  No- 
madism. 

Foreclosure,  68,  69.    See  also  Mortgages. 

Foreigners,  8,  42,  53,  123. 

Fort  Hill,  u. 

Fort  Point  Channel,  13. 

Franklin  Park,  124. 

Free-lunches,  48. 

Furnished-room  houses.  See  Lodging-houses, 
definition. 

Furniture,  33,  35,  37,  59,  66,  67-71,  106,  168, 
170-171,  173. 

Gambling,  134,  135-136,  148. 
Gas-bills,  58. 
Germany,  4. 

Good-will,  63,  67-71,  1 68,  171. 
Great  Britain,  lodging-houses  in,  2,  3. 
Grocery  stores,  28. 
Group- conflict,  154. 
Group-control.    See  Social  Control. 


INDEX 


197 


Habit,  163,  180. 

Hall-rooms.    See  "Side  rooms." 

Harvard  Dining  Association,  103. 

Health,  28,  32,  36-37,  63,  66,   102-103,  "S» 

131,  132,  165. 
Heat,  34,  39,  58,  103,  107. 
Heterogeneity  of  the  lodging-house  population, 

82,  84,  93,  no,  145-149,  169. 
Home,  supplanted    by  the  lodging-house,  9, 

150  ff. 

Homicide.    See  Murder. 
Hotels,  29,  30,  91,  141. 
Hot  water,  36. 

Housekeeping,  5,  104,  159,  163. 
House-rent,  58,  63,  64-66,  76-78,  100,  159-160, 

164,  168,  171. 

Kurd,  Richard  M.,  quoted,  16,  76. 
Husbands,  occupation  of,  54,  56-57,  94. 

Elicit  love  affairs.    See  Informal  unions. 
Imitation,  161,  162,  163,  182. 
Improvement  league,  possible,  170. 
Income,  158. 

Of  landladies,  57-58,  60-63. 

Of  landlords,  76-77. 

Of  lodgers,  90,  97-99- 
Independence.    See  Personal  freedom. 
Individualism.    See  Selfishness. 
Inertia,  172-173. 
Infant  deaths,  131,  132. 
Informal  unions,  135,  138,  142-144,  146-147, 

153,  163,  171. 
Inspection,  3,  note,  172. 
Installment  sales,  33,  68  ff.,  1 68. 
Insurance,  77. 

Intemperance,  117,  137,  146-147. 
Interest  law  evaded,  69. 
Investment,  174-176, 178,  note.    See  also  Real 

estate. 
Isolation,    31,    104,   106,   109,  no,  112,  142, 


1 68, 
182. 
Causes  of,  109-110. 


i73-'74>    I79»    l8o> 


Jews,  low  infant  death-rate  among,  132. 
Just  wage,  155,  182. 

Kitchen,  179. 

Laborers,  90. 

Labor  efficiency,  30,  86,  174. 

Landladies,  10,  19,  23,  37,  38-42,  47,  52-71, 
no,  in,  112, 124, 125, 136,  138,  139-140, 
141,  145-149, 151,  152, 162,  167,  168,  170, 
171,  172,  175. 

Landlords,  10,  57,  60,  72-80,  145,  167,  170, 
171. 

Large-scale  productions  in  the  restaurant  busi- 
ness, 47,  174-176. 


Laundries,  27,  31,  32. 
Laundry,  59-60,  99,  135. 
Leroy-Beaulieu  quoted,  105,  173,  note. 
Library  facilities,  113,  172. 
License,  lodging-house,  3,  note,  172. 

Marriage,  143. 
Living-in,  3,  note. 
Liquor-stores,  27,  30,  137. 
Local  industries,  27-33. 
Lodgers,  number  of,  6-7. 
Lodging-house,  cheap,  i,  39, 124-125, 137, 138. 

Common,  2,  3. 

Definition,  I,  2. 

Distinguished  from  boarding-house,  5. 

Municipal,  2. 

Lodging-house  keepers.    See  landladies. 
Long  Day,  The,  quoted,    171-172,  note,  177- 

178,  note. 

Losses  in  real  estate,  75-76. 
Lynn  Woods,  172. 

Made  land,  12. 

Mail,  138. 

Mantels,  34. 

Manufacturing  and  Mechanical  Pursuits,  87, 

88,  90,  91,  96. 
Marriage,  12,  89,  115,  117,129,142-143,150- 

166,  179.    See  also  Conjugal  condition. 
Co-partnership  of,  159. 
Postponement  of,  150-152,  155,  161. 
Marriage-rate,  150-151, 153, 155-163, 164, 169. 
Marshall,  Alfred,  quoted,  162,  note. 
Marshes,  13. 
Massachusetts  cities,  lodgers  and  boarders  in, 

41-46. 
Mealers,  49. 
Meal-tickets,  49,  102. 
Median,  the,  130. 
Melodrama,  31,  113. 
Men  often  preferred  as  lodgers,  66. 
Mercantile  employees,  I,  5,  97,  100-101,  104- 

106,  156,  161-166,  169.    See  also  Trade 

and  Transportation. 
Mercantile  establishments,  27-33. 
Mercantile  Library  Club,  113. 
Mercantilism,  spirit  of,  still  existent,  164. 
Metal  trades,  96. 

Metropolitan  Park  Commission,  172. 
Middle  classes,  attitude  toward  marriage  and 

children,  161-166. 
Middlesex  Fells,  172. 
Migration,  intra-urban,  11-19,  '68- 
Mills  Hotels,  175-177. 
Milton,  1 6. 

Ministers,  84,  140,  143,  151,  163. 
Mirrors,  34. 

Model  boarding-houses,  103,  176. 
Model  lodging-houses,  175-178. 
Money-lenders,  Ji. 


198 


INDEX 


Moral  responsibility,  179-182. 

Morals,  46, 49-50, 57, 63,  64, 65,  1 1 1, 1 12, 1 17, 

134-149,  152-153,  156-159, 163, 168, 169- 

182. 

Mortgages,  63,  66,  68,  69,  71,  78,  168. 
Municipal  baths,  172. 
Municipal  gymnasiums,  117,  note,  172. 
Murder,  134,  135,  138,  171. 
Mussey,  H.  R.,  quoted,  68. 
Mutual  aid,  154. 

Nationality,  117,  123,  131,  153. 

Of  landladies,  52-53. 

Of  lodgers,  81. 

Nativity  of  the  population  of  Boston,  185-187. 
Neck,  the,  13. 
Negroes,  78,  82,  87,  90,  91. 
Neighborliness,  154. 
New  England,  53,  54,  71,  81. 
New  England  Watch  and  Ward  Society,  140. 
Newsholme,  Arthur,  quoted,  129-130,  note. 
Newspapers,  112,  134,  138. 
New  York,  2,  3,  30,  38,  39,  40,  41,  42,  81,  134, 

157,  178,  note. 
Nomadism  of  lodgers,  82-85,   no,  138,   142, 

145-149,  168-169,  I73»  '75- 
North  End,  n,  119,  123,  125,  129. 

Occupation,  25,  54,  56-57,  117,  131,  153. 

Of  lodgers,  81,  82,83,86-96,  97-99, 137,  169. 
Opportunities,  9,  10,  29,  81,  113-114, 154,  162, 

172-173. 
Overcrowding,  3,  note. 

Palmists,  32. 

Paris,  143. 

Parker  Memorial,  114. 

Parks,  13,  16,  152,  172,  note,  172-173. 
Semi-private,  22. 

Parlor,  34,  62.    See  also  Public  parlor. 

Pavements,  22,  37. 

Pawn-shops,  135. 

Personal  element,  loss  of,  173-174. 

Personal  freedom,  158, 168, 173, 178,  note,  179- 
182. 

Personal  service.   See  Domestic  and  personal 
service. 

Philadelphia,  38,  40. 

Philanthropy,  province  of,  in  the  lodging-house 
problem,  174-180. 

Picot,  Georges,  quoted,  141,  note,  143,  note. 

Pictures,  35. 

Pin-money.    See  Subsidiary  wages. 

Plumbing,  36. 

Police,  136,  137,  138-139,  140,  144,  146,  149, 
171. 

Pool-rooms,  27,  28,  29,  in. 

Population,  demand  for  large,  not  entirely  ra- 
tional, 164-165. 


Density  of,  115,  117,  118-122,  169. 

Increase  of,  8,  19. 

In  suburbs,  17-19. 

Lodging-house,  in  various  cities,  38-50. 

Movement  of,  from  country  to  city,  8-10. 

Of  lodging-house  district,  6,  7. 
Poverty,  105-108,  161,  169. 
Precinct  lists,  54-55,  83,  86,  125. 
Precinct  maps,  121. 
Prices,  board,  48-49. 

Clothing,  31. 

Coal,  58. 

Gas,  58. 

Lodging-houses,  70-71. 

Provisions,  47. 

Real  estate.    See  Real-estate  values. 

Rooms,  99-100. 

Water,  59. 
Pride,  104,  153,  160,  163-164. 

Change  to  lodging-houses,  15,  25. 

In  lodging-house  districts,  7,  23,  25,  86-87, 
117,  119. 

Private  residences,  13,  91,  118. 
Probation  officer,  138. 

Professional  service,  87,  88,  89,  90,  91,  95, 169. 
Prostitution,  30,  32,  117,    134-149,  158,  159, 
note,  160,  161,  163,  171. 

Extent  of,  not  generally  realized,  139. 

Need  of  detailed  investigation  of,  139,  144. 

Segregation  of,  144. 
Provision  stores,  28. 
Public  Garden,  12. 

Public  Library,  113.  See  also  Library  facilities. 
Public  opinion,  170,  171,  172,  175. 
Public  parlor,  35,  46,  57,  65-66,  112-113,  142, 
152,  171-172,  175,  179. 

Quacks,  32,  144. 
Quick  lunches,  28. 

Race.    See  Nationality. 

Race  suicide,  115,  132-133,  161. 

Reading-rooms,  172. 

Real  estate,  10,  14,  15,  16,  72-80. 

Real-estate  agents,  27,  58,  63,  67-71,  92,  168. 

Real-estate  transfers,  15,  1 6. 

Real-estate  values,  33,  72-80. 

Decline  of,  15. 
Real  income  of  the  family  not  dependent  upon 

the  husband  alone,  159. 
Reception-room.    See  Public  parlor. 
Recreation,  27, 162, 165, 172.    See  also  Amuse- 
ments. 
References  rarely  required,  141,  146,  170. 

On  working- women's  homes,  177,  note. 
Reform  suggested,  169-182. 
Registry  Department  of  Boston,  119,  120,  ff., 

150. 
Religion,  178,  note,  181. 


INDEX 


199 


Remedial  measures,  169-174. 

Remodeled     lodging-houses,    possibilities     of, 

178-179. 

Rent.    See  House-rent,  Room-rent,  etc. 
Repairs,  59,  76-77,  168,  170. 
Residence  districts,  II. 
Restaurants.    See  Cafes  and  Dining-rooms. 
Risk,  69,  71. 

Rooming-house.    See    Lodging-house,    defini- 
tion. 

Room  registry,  62,  67,  100,  109,  170-171. 
Room-rent,  5,  60-62,  99-101,  136,  140,  168, 

171,  177. 
Rooms,  distinction    between    "square"    and 

"side,"  34. 
In  tenements,  4,  5. 
Price  of.    See  Room-rent. 
Situation  of,  in  house,  34. 
Room-signs,  23,  26,  63,  140,  147. 
Rozbury,  13,  20,  26,  29,  119,  120. 
Rules,  undesirability   of,   3,   note,    178,  180- 

181. 
Rutan,  Elizabeth  Y.,  quoted,  25. 

St.  Louis,  38,  39,  40,  41,  134,  159. 

Salesmen.      See   Mercantile    employees    and 

Manufacturing  and  mechanical  pursuits. 
Saloons,  27-31,  in,  137,  172,  note. 
Sampling  (statistical  method),  87. 
San  Francisco,  38,  39,  40,  41,  45,  107. 
Sanitation,  35,  117,  131,  175. 
School  census,  125,  126-127. 
School  committee,  127. 
Schools,  23. 

Remiss  in  ethical  training,  181. 
Second-class  construction,  79-80. 
Seduction,  111-112,  135,  157,  158. 
Selfishness,  154,  157,  161,  162-163. 
Sex,  117,  122-125,  I3I- 

Of  lodgers,  81-82,  115,  122-125. 

Of  lodging-house  keepers,  52. 
Shade,  22. 

Sharpers,  63,  66,  67-71,  136,  167,  171. 
Shawmut  Church,  114. 
Shop-girls,  6,  89,  94-95,  ico-ioi,  153,  156- 

158. 

Shoplifters,  135. 
Side  rooms.    See  Rooms. 
Single  rooms,  heavy  demand  for,  100,  178. 
Skilled  mechanics,  i,  5,  9,  81,  89,  90,  100,  105, 

153,  168. 

Smoking-rooms,  175. 
Social  betterment,  85,  169-182. 
Social  control,  180. 
Social  cooperation,  154,  170. 
Social  dissolution,  138. 
Social  intercourse.    See  Isolation. 
Social  parasites,  32,  137. 
Social  standards,  changes  in,  needed,  179-182. 


South  Bay,  13,  132. 

South  Boston,  13,  29,  119,  120,  123. 

South  Cove,  119,  123. 

South  End  House,  103,  114,  179. 

Speculation,  78. 

Standard  of  living,  90,  101,  145,  154-155,  157, 

161-163. 

State  House,  24,  25. 
Statistical  bureaus,  115. 
Statistics,  conflict  of,  124. 

Criminal,  backwardness  of,  138. 

Lacking,  83,86, 115-116,124, 125-126, 130- 
131,  138,  150,  169-170. 

Purpose  of,  117. 
Stolen  goods,  135. 
Straw  lodgers,  67. 
Street  plan,  21,  27. 
Street  railways,  12,  13,  17,  21,  29. 
Stucco-work,  34. 
Student  quarters,  188-189. 
Students,  26,  58,  82,  97,  174-175. 
Style.    See  Fashion. 
Subsidiary  wages,  6,  156-159,  177. 
Suburbs,  10,  12,  16,  17,  62,  104, 120, 129,  131, 
159,  note,  1 60,  1 88. 

Population  of,  17-19. 
Suicide,  134-135,  138,  171. 
Summer,  effect  of,  on  lodging-house  population, 

61-62. 

Sundays,  3,  note,  28,  36,  112,  148. 
Sympathy,  90. 

Tailoring  establishments,  27,  31,  32. 

Tapestry,  34,  36. 

Taxes,  72,  76-77. 

Tax-rate,  76. 

Teachers,  residence  of,  188. 

Tenement-House  Act  (New  York),  2. 

Tenement-House  Act  (Massachusetts),  move- 
ment for  revision  of,  79-80. 

Tenement-House  population.  See  Tenement- 
houses. 

Tenement-houses,  4,  24-25,  29,  31,  35,  54,  63, 
79,  81,  86-87,  i°°>  i°4»  i°*»t  113, 117,  118, 
120, 122,  126,  127,  129,  130, 131,  137, 144, 
154,  160,  163,  164,  172,  182. 

Theatres,  30,  31,  113,  162,  173. 

Theft,  134,  135-137- 

Topography,  131. 

Towels,  36,  59-60,  170. 

Trade  and  Transportation,  87,  88,  90,  92,  96. 

Trade-unions,  9,  155-156. 

Tramps,  2,  3. 

Transients,  i,  140,  141. 

Transportation,  10, 12,  17,  29.  See  also  Street 
railways. 

Union  Park,  13,  22,  73~75»  76*  99- 
Urban  statistics,  inadequacy  of,  115-116. 


200 


INDEX 


Vacant  land,  121,  note,  131. 
Vacant  rooms,  61-63. 
Vaudeville,  31.    See  also  Theatres. 
Venereal  disease,  143. 
Ventilation,  35,  36,  37. 
Vermin,  37. 
Vitality,  164-165. 
Vital  statistics,  115-133,  169. 
Available  urban,  116,  note. 

Wages,  97-99,  loo-ioi,  104, 154,  156-159, 182. 

See  also  Subsidiary  wages. 
Wage  statistics,  97-99. 
Walking,  173. 
Ward  politicians,  8r. 

Wards,  location  and  character  of,  119-120. 
Population  and  vital  statistics  of,  115-133. 
Water-bills,  59. 
Water-closets,  36,  59,  60. 
West  Chester  Park,  13,  22. 
West  End,  n,  16,  24-25,  29,  81,  82,  118,  119, 

123, 125,  129,  137, 138, 188. 
West  Roxbury,  120. 


Whitmore,  Henry,  quoted,  72. 

Widows,  54,  64,  1 68. 

Winthrop,  24. 

Woman-labor,  155. 

Women,  holders  of  real  estate,  77-78. 

Married,  as  wage-earners,  156. 

Occupations  of,  25,  47-48,  63,  93-95,   125, 
158. 

Wages  of,  95,  97-102,  154-155,  177- 
Women  lodgers,  statistics  of,  lacking,  83,  86, 

124,  126. 

Women's  clubs,  65. 
Women's  Educational  and  Industrial  Union, 

H5- 

Worcester  Square,  13,  22. 
Working-girls'  homes,  176-178. 
Effect  on  wages,  177. 

Yards,  22,  79. 

Yeggmen,  4. 

Young  Men's  Christian  Association,  114. 

Young  Men's  Christian  Union,  114. 

Young  Women's  Christian  Association,  62-66. 


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